


Sugar High

by arekushia, ryoseirui



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aftercare, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, College Student Katsuki Yuuri, First Time, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Sugar Daddy AU, Sugar Daddy Victor Nikiforov, Top Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-10-02 15:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 115,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10221779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arekushia/pseuds/arekushia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryoseirui/pseuds/ryoseirui
Summary: "Baby boy, you can have whatever you want. Just tell me, and I'll give you the world." Yuuri is completely speechless. Was it going to be this easy? To get money from someone so handsome, so alluring, so rich? Just by asking? Victor presses on. "I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me.""...Will you help me pay my college tuition?" Yuuri finally speaks, deciding to be straightforward, remembering why he signed up for this in the first place."If that'll make you happy, then so be it. Now…lay on the bed."--Yuuri Katsuki is a college student struggling to pay rent, tuition, and just about everything else. When he sets up an account for a sugar daddy dating app, he doesn't expect anything to come out of it. Instead, he meets Victor Nikiforov, and so begins their walk on the fine line between their physical relationship and something more.





	1. Sweet Meet

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Sugar High](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15242304) by [KatsuDoggo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatsuDoggo/pseuds/KatsuDoggo)



> Hello! It's Rui (http://ryoseirui.tumblr.com/) and Alexia (http://victuuuuri-on-ice.tumblr.com/) here. We've been planning this AU for over a month now, and we're really excited to finally have chapter 1 out! 
> 
> As noted, more tags will be added as the story goes on.
> 
> A little note though is that one future chapter will contain some sort dubcon. We do not condone dubcon in any way, shape, or form. (CONSENT IS MANDATORY!! IT NEEDS TO BE SAID!! ENTHUSIASTICALLY!!!!) When that chapter arrives, we will give you another warning. It is simply a plot device.

“Thank you very much for this job opportunity.”

Yuuri leaves the restaurant with his final paycheck in his hands, the familiar chatter of the diner fading behind him as the door closes and the bells at the top of the door jingle one last time. It wasn’t the best job Yuuri could have hoped for, but it was a job nonetheless. In the end, however, it just isn’t enough.

_$200._

He’s going to be $200 short on rent this month, and he can’t afford to pay late again. To add to the pressure, he had promised Phichit he wouldn't miss rent this time, since Phichit had ended up covering for him last month. Moreover, that hadn’t been the first time Yuuri wasn’t able to meet his agreement with Phichit to split things evenly as roommates. Whenever Yuuri fails, Phichit is there to help him up—but he can’t keep doing this all the time. The point is to not be a burden to Phichit. There’s a week left, and making just above minimum wage at a restaurant wasn’t going to make the cut. Not to mention, he got paid every other week. It’s not that Yuuri _can’t_ make it—he _won’t_ make the payment on time, even if he tries. Again.

The cool air stings Yuuri’s eyes as he walks back to his apartment, and he shivers a bit, gritting his teeth. Yuuri had found the cold Chicago air refreshing when he first arrived here, but now it feels suffocating, biting and harsh. When he notices that he’s blinking more frequently and his throat feels tight, Yuuri immediately knows why, and simply has no energy to try to stop himself anymore. The next thing he knows, tears begin to stream down his face, a result of the mix of the harsh wind and the building frustration with himself, his inability to do any better than he is now.

He’s trapped in a corner. There’s rent, tuition, dance equipment, and so many other fees he has to pay off, but he just doesn't have enough money. He’s desperately searching for something to hold onto, a foothold to prop himself up, but instead he just keeps slipping and grasping at air. He doesn't know where to turn to. He promised his family and friends back in Japan not to worry about him, that he would be able to pay for everything himself, but he knows that’s a lie. He just doesn’t want to burden them. Going to school overseas, majoring in two subjects, minoring in one more—the tuition will eventually add up to something that he definitely can’t ask his family for. Yuuri feels his heart sink to his stomach, a sign of that intense dread he’s all too used to.

Yuuri opens the door to his apartment, hoping Phichit isn’t back from his job yet. He doesn’t have the courage to break the news to him, to look into those optimistic, hopeful eyes and tell him that he’d let him down again. But his luck is just terrible, because Phichit is sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, welcome back, Yuuri!” Phichit greets him with a warm smile. But that smile fades away as soon as he sees the tears on Yuuri’s face. Without a word, he gets up and goes over to Yuuri, bringing him close for a warm embrace. Yuuri cries into his shoulder, leaning into Phichit for support. _I'm so selfish_ , Yuuri tells himself. _If anyone should be frustrated right now, it should be Phichit._

“If you need me to cover again, I’ll do it. You just quit your job, so I understand. I’ll call my parents later tonight, o—,” Phichit tries to reassure him, but is cut off by Yuuri’s raised voice.

“N-no!” he almost yells. “I can’t let you keep paying for me, it’s unfair to you! I just…I just need to find something that would get me fast cash!” Yuuri is desperate, and it shows in everything he does, from his tone of voice to the shaky grip he has on Phichit’s shoulders. He doesn’t want to be a burden to Phichit. Not again. He’s tired of this cycle. 

Yuuri wipes his eyes hastily, looking straight at Phichit. “I’ll get the money, I promise.” But the look in Phichit’s eyes tells Yuuri that he’s fighting an uphill battle. “I’m serious, Phichit!”

“So...you’re telling me you’ll magically have $200 despite not working? That’s pretty shady, Yuuri. What are you planning to do?”

“U-uh...I’ll find something…”

“I already told you becoming a stripper isn’t an option,” Phichit reminds Yuuri with a teasing tone, in an attempt to lighten the mood. It works, since he makes Yuuri’s face flush at the mention of the lighthearted conversation they’d had about that a few weeks ago. 

“That’s not what I was thinking!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Completely sure.” Yuuri sighs softly, pinching the bridge of his nose and pushing up his glasses in the process. “I promise I’ll get the money. Just give me a little time. Just one day. Please.”

“Yuuri, you’re not going to get a job in a day, let alone get paid by the end of the week,” Phichit tries to reason with him. He really doesn’t mind covering for Yuuri, but Yuuri is just so adamant and stubborn that Phichit knows he won’t be able to change his view on the situation, no matter how many irrefutable truths he gives. Yuuri sighs, knowing that defeat is imminent, but he's content knowing that Phichit can tell he doesn't want to just give up.

“I’m sorry…,” Yuuri apologizes, his head hanging low. Phichit cups his cheeks with both hands, bringing his head back up with a small smile so they could look each other in the eyes. “I really don’t want to use your money though, Phichit…please understand...”

“...Okay, Yuuri.” Phichit sits Yuuri on the couch, then takes a seat next to him. After turning around to grab a tissue from the small table next to the couch, he holds it out to Yuuri.

“Thanks…,” Yuuri murmurs, blowing his nose and taking a deep breath. He knows he’s lucky to have met Phichit in college during his freshman year. He’s so hopeful and energetic, and he always knows a way to make Yuuri feel better on days like these when nothing seemed to be going right. 

“You know, some of my classmates have been talking about this thing…I don’t know if you’ll be interested, but if you keep insisting that pole dancing is your ticket to money, this might be up your alley.”

“What…what is it?” Yuuri asks, curious. He wants this money. He _needs_ this money. At this point, he’ll do anything to make quick cash.

“Well...it’s an app called ‘Sweet Meet’,” Phichit starts skeptically, trying to be careful with this impulsive side of Yuuri, but before he can explain any further, Yuuri’s phone is already out and unlocked, downloading it from the app store without even reading the description or checking how much space it takes up. Phichit knows at this point that all he can do is watch and attempt to guide Yuuri’s next actions. Yuuri immediately clicks on the app when it’s finally done, impatiently waiting for it to load. However, he goes still once the main screen comes up, and a short fifteen-second introductory video tells Yuuri all he needs to know about the app. There are pictures of happy couples flashing across the screen along with bubbly animated hearts and cupids, and if Yuuri wasn't completely serious about this he would have laughed. Then, the first screen comes up, asking Yuuri a question that completely changes his perspective.

**[Welcome to Sweet Meet! To begin, please select one:]**

**[I am a sugar daddy] [I am a sugar baby]**

 “U-uh…a sugar daddy dating app?”

“...Yeah?”

“Phichit?!” Yuuri looks over at his friend, surprised he would even suggest something like that.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Phichit defends himself. “It’s just something I overheard, remember? Besides, this is subconsciously something that you were considering, so don’t look so surprised.”

 _But Phichit is_ _technically onto something. How much can I earn just by kissing someone, cuddling someone?_ Yuuri wonders, staring at the question on the screen. If he gets matched with someone, and meets with them before the week ends…he can make the $200 that’s missing for rent, through just one meeting. Hopefully. The prospect of it is slowly pulling Yuuri in, even though he’s never considered doing this before in his life. 

“...I’ll do it,” Yuuri finally makes his resolve after a few moments. He hesitates before choosing the “I am a sugar baby” option, his ears a bit red from that straightforward phrasing. Another menu pops up, and he starts quietly filling out his profile, putting his name, age, birthday, occupation, and a few other things. Gradually comes the onslaught of longer questions, some requiring Yuuri to stop and think for a bit. For the most part, they’re all fairly normal—things like “what are your hobbies?” At least that's what Yuuri thinks, until…kinks. _What kind of things am I into?_ He thinks to himself, but his mind doesn't wander very far. In the end, he doesn't give it much thought, so he just answers that he’s experimental, hoping no one would try to get him to try out something crazy, even though he’s already subconsciously decided he’ll do virtually anything to get his hands on the prize. If he’s told to eat out of a dog bowl for $300, he’ll get on his knees immediately. He needs it.

It takes about half an hour for Yuuri to finish his profile setup, Phichit brewing him some tea. All that’s left is to upload some pictures of himself, and he’ll be ready to start. He picks a few decent ones that are saved on his phone, two selfies with Phichit, one by himself, and a picture that was taken by Phichit of him midair while dancing. With those four pictures Yuuri deems it sufficient, and he clicks next, his account successfully created. 

“Hey Phichit, did any of your friends say how long it took before they were contacted?” Yuuri asks as he mindlessly scrolls through the sugar daddy accounts that were immediately recommended to him after he finished making his account. They all have professional looking pictures, almost every one of them wearing some kind of suit or formal wear. The majority are men, but Yuuri comes across a fair amount of women’s accounts as well. However, none of them really catch his attention, so he locks his phone. It’s getting late, and dinner time is approaching. Given how stressed Yuuri was feeling a few hours ago, he’s ready to drink some tea and eat something warm as comfort food.

“Hm...I heard someone say that it took about three or four days? That’s the quickest time I’ve heard.” 

“Three days…”

“Just stop thinking about it for now, Yuuri. If it happens, then it does, and if it doesn’t, then oh well. Now, get over here before you forget to eat from how nervous you are.” After a few moments of deliberation, Yuuri leaves his phone on the couch, putting it on silent out of nervousness, and walks over to Phichit in the kitchen, helping him cook dinner. 

Once they've prepared their plates, Yuuri takes the cup of tea Phichit prepared for him, holding it close and catching the waft under his nose. “Chamomile?”

“Yeah, with honey,” Phichit smiles, sitting down. “That's your favorite, right?”

“Yeah...thanks, Phichit,” Yuuri allows himself a small smile, sitting across from Phichit. They start eating—or at least, Yuuri does. After a few minutes of eating, Yuuri glances up to see Phichit staring at him. “U-um...Phichit?”

“You know, you don't have to.”

“I don't have to…?” 

“You look kind of scared. That makes sense, considering you've never even thought about doing this kind of thing. If it drags you out of your comfort zone, I'd rather have you worry about getting another job later.”

“Stop underestimating me, Phichit,” Yuuri chides him before taking a sip of tea. “I'm a 20-year-old college student!”

“Oh?” Phichit smiles knowingly. “And I bet you have extensive experience with this whole sugar baby business?”

“I...I know enough.”

“Say, ‘I'm a sugar baby.’”

Yuuri almost chokes on his tea, looking at Phichit in disbelief. He’s feeling a bit hot, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of the steam from the tea that’s wafting in front of his face or his own anxious feelings. “Why do I have to say that?” 

“I mean, that's what you are, right? At least, that’s what you chose in the app. If you can't play the part, you'll just get swallowed up.” Phichit finishes his tea, grinning at Yuuri. “I know I would be able to do it. What about you?”

“I-if I couldn't then I wouldn't have signed up for it, you know…”

“Then, say it.”

Silence engulfs the room as Yuuri finishes the last of his food nervously. _Just say it. It's not that hard. Just…four words, right? Four words. Just words. I can do it._  

“I…”

“Hm? Did you say something, Yuuri?”

Yuuri halfheartedly kicks Phichit’s foot from under the table and Phichit giggles but decides to cut Yuuri some slack. There's no tea left in Yuuri's mug, but he tries to distract himself from his internal screaming by swirling the spoon around in the mug, swirling around a few last droplets on the sides.

 _It's now or never. I'll say it loud and quick, and then it'll be over._ Yuuri sets down his mug and stops moving the spoon, setting his hands on the table. _Just say it._ He sits up straight in his chair, clearing his throat and looking Phichit in the eyes. _Four words._

“I'm a sugar baby.”

Silence. Yuuri's face is a deep red, but he's still standing up straight in his chair and staring into Phichit’s eyes, so intensely that his eyes are the only things he's focused on. Then…

“I'm a sugar baby.”

 _“_ Phichit, don't mimic me when I finally said it!” Yuuri’s focus breaks.

“Oh, that wasn't me,” answers Phichit, laughing a bit. “You know how Snapchat is.”

It takes approximately 0.2 seconds for Yuuri to realize what Phichit just did, but by the time he tries to reach out and grab Phichit’s phone, instead grasping at empty space, it's too late. He should have known better than to say that while Phichit still has his phone with him. If Phichit is an expert in anything, it’s in taking selfies and videos without anyone noticing. “Phichit! Oh god, Phichit, delete that. _Phichit_.” Yuuri's voice echoes on Phichit’s phone again, just those four words, and Yuuri wants to crawl into the nearest crack in the sidewalk outside their apartment.

“Don't worry,” Phichit reassures him with a relaxed smile that doesn't make Yuuri worry any less. “I'm just going to send it to you and save it just in case." 

“I'd rather you just delete it, please…,” Yuuri groans in defeat, laying his head on the table and burying his flushed face in his hands. He hears Phichit humming happily. “...How many filters are you putting?”

“Oh, I don't know. Probably just the standard two, but for stickers, I'd say the minimum is...five?”

Yuuri's voice repeats at least five more times while Phichit masterfully crafts a ten second video of Yuuri saying something he could never take back. 

“Why do you make me suffer like this?”

“I mean, you're the one who signed up. Who knows, maybe someone already wants to meet you!” With the Snap saved and sent, Phichit stands from the table and grabs their mugs, cups, and utensils. Before heading to the sink, he turns to Yuuri with a knowing smile. “I'll wash the dishes while you go check.” He laughs at the defeated groan Yuuri gives as he stands up from his chair.

As Phichit turns on the water, Yuuri decides that it would probably be better to check up on his phone, even if that meant he had to relive that four-word moment in third person. Seeing his phone on the counter makes him a bit nervous, but he pushes past those feelings and grabs his phone, lying down on the couch. His password is the four digits that spell out his name, but he puts in each digit slowly as if he doesn’t know how to spell it, a thousand thoughts running through his head with each number. Finally, the last one is in, and Yuuri braces himself for a notification.

Nothing.

Instead, there are some text notifications, a Snapchat from back home in Hasetsu, and a few Twitter notifications about ballet news. The ball of nerves in the pit of his stomach subsides, and he sighs softly. He doesn't know for sure if he's relieved or disappointed, but he decides to focus on the notifications he actually has for now. He goes through most of them them quickly, and lingers on what Yuuko sent him through Snapchat. First is a silly video of the triplets. _They definitely took her phone without asking_ , Yuuri infers with an amused huff. After that is the customary videos his parents send him through Yuuko’s phone. As always, they express their support for him with glowing smiles, his dad digressing into what soccer match was about to start airing on TV. But Yuuri knows the longing in his mom’s expression better than almost anyone, and knows she wants to see him again. Last is a close up of a tree near Yutopia, captioned “Almost cherry blossom season!” Yuuri smiles slightly. What he would give to see the cherry blossoms in bloom. In Chicago, there were barely any to speak of. Yuuri can count how many cherry blossom trees he's seen since coming on one hand. Back home, he loved the view from the park near his home, where he would go jogging in the morning. If he closes his eyes, he remembers. Those soft, floating pink petals, the lavender sky reflecting in the shine of the sea as the sun began to set…

No one back in Hasetsu knows, and even in Chicago Phichit was the only person who had noticed something odd about Yuuri's behavior a few weeks into living there, but Yuuri gets so homesick sometimes that he wishes he could just pack his belongings, take a cab to O’Hare, catch the next flight to Japan and go back—back to the warmth of his home, the familiar creak of his bed, his mother's warm katsudon, to the only place he could really call home. But he has to keep going. He has no choice. 

“Geez…,” Yuuri mutters under his breath as he finally looks at Phichit’s snap of him, saving the worst for last. Phichit had placed at least a dozen stickers near Yuuri's face, all related to babies or money. “If you ever show this to anyone…”

“I won't,” Phichit says as he turns off the water, drying his hands. “Not unless I have a good reason to.”

“I'm not even going to ask what that reason would entail,” Yuuri says nervously, deciding to turn off his phone before his nerves can come back. However, he’s in the process of locking his phone when a notification flashes at the top of his screen, with a vaguely familiar icon. It takes several seconds for Yuuri to register what app the notification came from, and when he does he hastily unlocks his phone again to ascertain the source, the initial butterflies in his stomach now feeling more like wasps.

_Oh god. It’s happening. It’s real._

Yuuri is automatically, completely glued to his phone. However, he doesn't want to do this alone.

“Phichit!! Someone contacted me!”

“What? Already!?” Phichit runs immediately over to Yuuri's side, peeking over the couch, and eagerly waits for him to open the message. “What's their name? How old are they? What's their job? Does it say how much they earn?”

“Calm down, Phichit, I just opened the app,” Yuuri laughs nervously, but to be honest, Phichit is probably externally ten times calmer than Yuuri currently is internally. “Apparently they sent me a message…” After fumbling with the navigation of the app, Yuuri eventually finds his messages. The sender’s initials are the only indication of who they are, as well as...an icon of a poodle?

“V.N., huh…,” Phichit murmurs. “It doesn't disclose their name?” 

Yuuri shakes his head, remembering a particular policy that he had read in the rules when he signed up. “Unless you show interest in them, they don't show their name until you've met with them. So to them, my initials are Y.K. The only other things they can see is what's in a 10 mile radius of me, my age, and the pictures I uploaded.” After a moment of silence between them, Yuuri knows that Phichit is eager to read the message from this mysterious person, and hesitates for a second before accepting the message from V.N. They both read the message quietly.

[Hello, and thank you for choosing to read my message.

My name is Victor Nikiforov. I saw that our locations are relatively close, and was wondering if you were interested in going out tonight. Would you like to meet up somewhere?]

“...Phichit, Phichit, what do I even say back?!” Yuuri suddenly panics, the words sinking in. He didn't expect to have someone message him so soon, let alone ask to meet tonight. Not to mention, they—Victor Nikiforov—had openly disclosed their name to Yuuri. _Is it customary for me to give my name, too? But I don't necessarily have to, right? After all, that's part of the policy._ Yuuri's mind is reeling at a hundred miles a second, almost dizzying. 

“Calm down, Yuuri! Just tell him you'd love to, and ask where!” 

“O-okay,” Yuuri mumbles, his fingers flying across his keyboard. He gets increasingly impatient with himself each time he misspells something, but thankfully most of the words are corrected and he doesn’t have to worry about it. His heart is pounding.

[Hello, Mr. Nikiforov. 

Or should I just call you Victor? I would love to meet up. My name is Yuuri. Where shall we meet?] 

“Is that fine, Phichit?” Yuuri asks after he reads it out loud.

“Yuuri, I can’t act as you. This Victor guy wants Yuuri Katsuki, not Phichit Chulanont acting as Yuuri Katsuki,” says Phichit bluntly, earning a nod from Yuuri. It takes a few more moments before Yuuri decides there's nothing else he wants to say and sends the message. After he's sure it's been sent, he locks his phone and sets it down, exhaling the breath he didn't know he was holding. Everything is silent for a few moments before Yuuri looks at Phichit with a nervous expression.

“What now?”

“Calm down, Yuuri. It hasn't even been a minute since you sent that message.” 

“God, I should've changed the phrasing. My thoughts were all over the place. I introduced myself in the middle of the message.”

“That's minor, Yuuri, don't worry about it. Besides, it'll probably take a few minutes for—” 

Yuuri’s phone buzzes again.

“...Okay. I guess I was wrong. Again,” Phichit murmurs in disbelief. “What does it say?” Yuuri takes a deep breath before checking the new message from Victor.

[Victor is just fine, my dear.

Meet me at Everest at 8. If you need a ride, I can send one of my chauffeurs to bring you there.]

“Woah…a chauffeur? ‘My dear’? Yuuri, did you just hit a jackpot?” Phichit teases, nudging Yuuri's shoulder with his elbow. 

“Phichit, you're not helping,” Yuuri can feel his face flush. _Has anyone ever called me “dear” before? Isn't that supposed to be an endearing term? Oh, right, he's flirting with me...oh god, this guy is flirting with me. A stranger. With a poodle as his profile picture._ As much as Yuuri feels nervous, though, he recognizes a faint trace of anticipation, even eagerness, that’s fueling his curiosity and motivating him to refrain from deleting the app then and there and be over with it. “So…where _is_ Everest?”

“Maybe the mountain?”

“Very funny, Phichit.” 

Yuuri closes out of the app to pull up Google, and searches for the restaurant. In seconds, he’s in complete dismay at the pictures that google is giving him of the tables, the view—oh god, the view from the place. On the 40th floor of the Chicago Stock Exchange, overlooking the city in all its elegance, and the layout of the restaurant making it seem more like a time machine to the early twentieth century. Yuuri looks down at the clothes he’s wearing. Black jeans and a striped sweater. He bites his lip before messaging Victor again. By now, Phichit is simply watching over him, seeing that Yuuri is slowly gaining his own incentive. 

[Um…do I have to dress up? I’m afraid I don’t…have anything as nice to match the atmosphere of the place where you want to meet…] 

[What’s the best outfit you have, doll?]

“Ooh, now it's ‘doll’?” 

“Oh my god, Phichit, please shut up.” 

[Um…black pants, a white dress shirt, and dress shoes…that’s just about it…]

 **[V.N. would like to provide transportation for you.]**  

**[Accept] [Decline]**

The notification suddenly pops up in the conversation between him and Victor. Yuuri isn't expecting the offer, he didn't even realize such a thing could be enacted on the app, so he immediately chooses “Accept”. It's only a few moments later that he realizes he just accepted a ride from Victor without a second thought, and feels a bit guilty.

“Phichit, was that okay? I already don't have clothes for the occasion and I just accepted a ride from him…”

“Yuuri, you're forgetting the point,” Phichit laughs a bit. “That's the kind of part you're playing. Sugar babies are supposed to indulge in what they're offered. Just relax.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not good at indulging, if you haven't noticed,” retorts Yuuri, playing with a strand of his hair as he begins to feel a bit restless. Between school, studying, and his job, Yuuri hasn’t been able to find a time to go cut it, and now it’s about an inch longer than it usually is. The hair at the bottom constantly tickles the nape of his neck, and at times he has to brush strands out of his face. Although he doesn't dislike longer hair, Yuuri needs to keep it manageable and not distracting.

A new message from Victor distracts Yuuri from his thoughts.

[Splendid! The car should be there in 15 minutes. They’ll take you to Gold Coast, to an upscale boutique I frequent. Get anything you want, Yuuri. If they need verification that it’s me, show them the picture of my poodle. Her name is Makkachin.]

A new notification pops up in the conversation, and the first thing Yuuri thinks is, _Oh god, what is he going to give me now?_

 **[V.N. has offered to charge your Sweet Rewards[** **?** **] card.]**

**[Accept] [Decline]**

 Yuuri is at a loss for what the notification is referring to, and is relieved to see the question mark next to the unknown term. He selects the question mark, which then opens a small tab in the center of the screen.

**[Sweet Rewards is a safe and easy way for a sugar baby to receive and use money given to them by their sugar daddy. You can use your Sweet Rewards card, located in the third tab from the drop-down menu, to transfer money into a bank account, order products online, and shop at any store via Apple Pay or Samsung Pay. We hope you enjoy the Sweet Rewards program!]**

After closing the tab, Yuuri bites his lip. He's well aware of Phichit watching his every move, but in this moment it feels as if the entire world is monitoring him. Slowly, reluctantly, he chooses to accept Victor’s offer. The drop-down menu at the top left corner of the screen immediately shows a bright red dot, signaling a notification, and Yuuri navigates over to the tab labeled “My Sweet Rewards”. His eyes skim over the notification.

He gasps and holds his phone to his chest so that Phichit can't see, feeling his heart drop down to his stomach. _Is this real? Are you kidding me?_

“Yuuri? What's wrong?”

“Phichit…I’m having second thoughts about this…,” Yuuri looks up weakly.

“Yuuri…what did you do…”

“I may have…basically gotten a free pass to get expensive clothes at a boutique near Gold Coast…before we meet at Everest...”

“A free pass?"

“Victor, he...he gave me $1000.”

“It’s working already?!” Phichit exclaims, eyes bright with all the excitement that Yuuri wishes he could feel right now. “Well, you’re going to go, right?! If you can get anything you want, then do it!" 

“What if this is all a setup, though?!”

“Yuuri, that's—”

“What if I get taken somewhere and then I get kidnapped?!” Yuuri’s eyes are wide with fear, and this is the only indication Phichit needs to know that not only is Yuuri nervous, he's terrified.

“Okay, how about this: I’ll accompany you to get your clothes, but once you get to the restaurant, you’ll be on your own. If anything goes wrong or you’re just uncomfortable, just excuse yourself to the bathroom and I’ll come meet you at the Jackson Red Line stop,” Phichit tries to negotiate, suggesting a place that’s comfortable with Yuuri. He watches as Yuuri pulls up Google again and looks at the map, seeing how much he would have to walk to get to the train stop. The prospect of Phichit going along with him is much more comforting than Yuuri wants to admit.

“That sounds good…I should ask to see if it’s okay though…” Yuuri is slightly less jittery as he texts Victor.

[Is it okay if I bring a friend to shop with me? It’s my first time doing something like this…]

Victor's response comes in less than a minute yet again.

[That’s fine, I understand. Meeting in such circumstances, on the first day, must be emotionally taxing to someone who is new to all of this. Please, feel free to do anything to make yourself more comfortable. I can guarantee that I don't have any ulterior motives. I just want to enjoy dinner with you, Yuuri.]

Yuuri lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “He said it’s okay for you to come along for as long as I need.”

“See, he doesn’t seem bad at all.” Phichit looks at Yuuri with a raised brow as Yuuri gets up from the couch. “What are you going to do?" 

“I'll be back,” Yuuri answers and leaves his phone on the couch, heading to their shared bedroom and opening up the closet. Phichit recognizes the sound right away.

“Yuuri, what are you dressing up for?” he calls out. “You're going to get clothes somewhere else, aren't you?”

“Well, yeah…,” Yuuri starts, finding the white dress shirt he had been talking about earlier and hastily undressing. His eyes glance over to the clock on their dresser. 6:25. He had roughly an hour and a half to get clothes and go over to Everest. 

“What are you doing, then?” retorts Phichit, who is now laying on the couch Yuuri had just been on.

“I'd rather just complete my outfit than get a new one. It'll take less time.”

“Really, Yuuri? He's giving you a thousand dollars, you know. You might as well splurge.”

“I don't want him to think that I'm fixated on just his money!”

“I mean...aren't you?”

Yuuri lapses into silence. Phichit’s comment hurts, but he's not wrong. In fact, he's completely right. Yuuri knows next to nothing about this guy. Victor Nikiforov. What kind of person is he? Granted, Yuuri finds it amusing that his profile picture isn’t him but his dog instead, but what else is there? Yuuri already knows the answer to that, and it just makes him feel all the more guilty. 

Yuuri changes into his black pants, slips on his black dress shoes and buttons up his white dress shirt in a matter of moments. He's about to leave the room when he sees his reflection, and hesitates. His hair is mostly in place, but eyes are still red from crying, and he hopes it's less notable by the time he meets Victor.

Yuuri’s phone buzzes, and Phichit picks it up. “Yuuri, I'm going into your phone!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yuuri runs out of the room and over to him, taking his phone before Phichit can do something Yuuri will regret. After hastily putting in his password, he sees a new notification in his conversation with Victor. As Yuuri reads the notification, he feels a bit anxious, but knows it's too late to turn back.

**[Your ride has arrived!]**

“Phichit, the ride is here, we should go.”

“Already?!” Phichit says as he grabs his coat before being pulled out the door by Yuuri.

They walk down the stairs of their complex and spot a car that stands out among all the others on the block—black, sleek, and sophisticated. The chauffeur seems to notice them as well, rolling down their window.

“Well? What are you waiting for?” Phichit whispers, nudging Yuuri forward and pulling him out of his stupor. Yuuri takes a deep breath before approaching the driver. He's convinced that everyone on the block is watching him in amusement. _‘Look at that college kid,’_ he imagines his neighbors thinking. _‘Since when does he have money for_ that _?’_

To which Yuuri would have laughed and said, ‘ _Yeah, since never.’_

Yuuri clears his throat as he gets closer to the chauffeur's window, Phichit following closely behind, but before he can say anything the chauffeur speaks first, sparing him the awkwardness. “Good evening. Are you here for a ride provided by Mr. Nikiforov?” they ask, looking Yuuri over. “You match the description that Mr. Nikiforov gave me.”

“Ah…yes, we are,” Yuuri replies, wondering for a split second how Victor could give a description of him before remembering the pictures of himself that he had put on his profile.

The chauffeur gets out of the car and opens the door to the backseat before Yuuri can do it himself, and Yuuri is pushed in by an excited Phichit before the door is closed behind them. Yuuri gives a halfhearted glare to Phichit. After a few seconds, the chauffeur makes their way back to the driver’s seat.

“You realize you just pushed me into a stranger's car, right?” Yuuri murmurs to Phichit. “I’m still not convinced this isn't a trap.”

“That's okay! We'll just get kidnapped together, then." 

“P-phichit…”

“Oh, stop worrying about every little detail,” Phichit chides Yuuri, pulling out his phone. “I'll do a little research, you sit back and relax, okay?”

“Mr. Nikiforov said that you’ll be going to George Green first, correct?” the chauffeur breaks off their quiet dialogue, calling Yuuri's attention. Yuuri doesn't know the name of the boutique, so he assumes the one the chauffeur was referring to is the correct one.

“Yes.”

“The ride will be quick, only a few blocks away.”

The car is silent as the chauffeur drives them to the boutique. Yuuri’s attention is constantly switching between the road—half expecting the driver to make an unexpected turn into a dark alley and lock the doors on them—and Phichit, who's humming to himself and making small comments only he can hear as he finds something while “researching”, only making Yuuri more curious about what Phichit is discovering about Victor Nikiforov through social media and Google. Once they get there, the chauffeur exits the car and opens the door for Yuuri and Phichit.

Their eyes light up as they step out the car. It’s a small shop, but they can already tell that it’s high class from the furniture set up inside. Both of them gulp audibly, the pressure on. 

They already feel like outsiders the moment they step inside.

The walls are painted a soft tan with gold trim, and lights are scattered on the ceiling to give the whole boutique low lighting. To their right, there are two racks attached to the wall, one on top of the other, filled with tuxedo jackets of various designs, and colors, yet all arranged in a way that each design was analogous with the next. On the opposite wall is a long showcase made of sleek mahogany. Phichit comments that he’s only ever seen those kinds of fixtures filled with fine china that were never used, and Yuuri agrees with him, in awe. There are various dress shirts stacked on top of each other, arranged by color. White shirts are all on the left side, and as the shirts are arranged down the row, they gradually become darker until they reach full saturation. The top row is a white-red gradient while the middle row is a white-blue one, and the bottom white-black. Next to the showcase containing the shirts are ties hanging from two bars. The top bar is filled with patterned ties, the bottom bar with solid colors. At the back corner of the store, underwhelming compared to the vast display in front of them, is the cash register, with the register built into an elaborate dresser.

In the center of the room is a tall, glass and wood table along with a glass vase containing an arrangement of red roses in the center of it. Two chairs face out from the table, proportionate with the height of the table, and two leather handbags rest on each of the seats. Everything in the store exudes extravagance, elegance, and sophistication, and with every second that passes Yuuri feels that he lacks all three of those qualities more and more in comparison.

“Hello gentlemen. May I offer any assistance today?” A man wearing a slightly more modest suit compared to the ones on display walks out from behind the register, suspiciously eyeing both of them. It’s easy to tell he’s judging them by their appearance already. Even though Yuuri is dressed better than Phichit, who had left the house in his jeans, shirt, and hoodie, he feels overshadowed by the dark gray suit of the associate.

“Um…yes…”

“My friend here has a date with a guy named Victor Nikiforov, think you can help him out?” Phichit pipes up as he pushes Yuuri forward. Yuuri looks panicked as he turns around to face Phichit. “Come on Yuuri, don't be shy!”

“Mr. Nikiforov, you say?” His eyes narrow. “For someone like him to take anyone out on a date...it’s a bit of a stretch, in my opinion.”

“Huh…? Why?” Yuuri ventures to ask. However, he knows he won’t get an answer once he meets the associate’s eyes—eyes that were still looking down on him, labeling him as a naïve boy in his twenties that didn’t belong in a store like this in the first place. Yuuri doesn’t have an argument against that, either.

“Well, first I’d rather see some sort of verification…,” the associate prods, looking at Yuuri expectantly. Yuuri fumbles as he takes his phone out of his pocket, quickly opening the app. He swipes through the menu before reaching the picture of Victor’s profile picture, enlarging it. He turns his phone around and shows the dog, how Victor had instructed him to.

“She’s called Makkachin...she’s Victor’s poodle?” Yuuri tries his best to wipe away the uncertainty in his voice as the associate looks at the picture, then stares at Yuuri again. A few moments of silence pass between them, Yuuri wanting to shrivel up and die then and there. He really was naive to think that being a sugar baby was something easy. 

“Has Mr. Nikiforov requested you to be dressed in anything particular?” the associate finally says, breaking the tense atmosphere.

“Not exactly…,” Yuuri trails off, finally feeling like he can breathe again. “Like my friend said, I’m meeting him later, but I don't have much to wear, especially to...where he’s taking me.” Yuuri doesn’t feel like spreading the news that someone he barely knows is going to take him to a restaurant that he would never be able to afford.

“I see. Come here, it’ll be just a second,” the man brings Yuuri to the register counter. He opens a drawer and reaches inside for measuring tape while instructing Yuuri to hold his arms out. He takes Yuuri’s measurements, sliding the tape across his shoulders, around his waist and hips, and down his torso before putting the tape back into the drawer. “You’re a bit on the small side, and we’re a little low on stock right now for several designs, but I do have some things that might interest you. Is there a particular color you would like to wear?”

“Not really…? I think just a jacket and tie is good enough.”

The man nods at Yuuri’s request, and goes over to the top rack for the jackets. Yuuri watches as he pulls out a light gray jacket, a black jacket, and a dark blue one with black accents. As he brings them back to Yuuri, he displays them to him.

“Do these suit your liking?”

“I think the black would be nice. Can I take a look at the ties before I try it on?” Yuuri asks tentatively.

“Of course.”

Yuuri walks over to the ties, Phichit following behind him, knowing he would ask for his opinion soon.

“How about this one?” Phichit points at a tie with a few designs. “Since the rest of your outfit is a bit plain, it would be nice to spice it up, right Yuuri?” he smiles.

“I’m not really a pattern person, Phichit…,” he murmurs, feeling the gaze of the associate on him. Yuuri hates when he can feel someone he doesn’t know watching him, a single pair of eyes judging his every movement. “Um...how about this one?” He points at a plain baby blue tie, liking the soft color that doesn’t stand out against the other ties. To be honest, if there was only a rainbow tie-dyed tie left he would buy that one, if it means he can leave earlier.

“Are you sure…?” Phichit frowns. _Typical Yuuri_ , he thinks. But when Yuuri looks up at Phichit with desperate eyes, Phichit can tell that the initial suspicion of the associate really got to him, and that he wanted to leave as soon as possible. He lets out a sigh. “Alright, Yuuri.”

Yuuri carefully tugs it off the bar and brings it over the the man.

The man picks up the black jacket and motions Yuuri to follow him to the dressing room. He pulls back the curtains and places the jacket on the hook, and lets Yuuri step in. "If you would like more assistance, please just call out," he says after he pulls the curtain closed.  
  
Yuuri looks at himself in the mirror, biting his bottom lip. At least he’s out of sight in the dressing room. He looks at the tie in his hands. The texture is smooth and soft, just like the color suggests, and for a moment Yuuri takes a liking to the tie. Then he flips it over to see if there’s a price tag or sticker on it. A small, nearly unnoticeable tag is poking out of the label.  
  
$250.  
  
Yuuri grits his teeth, regretting not looking at the prices of the other ties before choosing. _This is only my first day, dammit, how can I already use a fourth of what he gave me for a piece of silk to hang around my neck?!_ Yuuri doesn’t even want to come out of the dressing room. The associate knows how much that small piece of cloth is. And judging by Yuuri’s personality, the associate probably also knows that Yuuri would never step into a store like this if not for Victor.  
  
But...he knows, deep down, this is what he’s getting into—and a part of him already accepts it. He’s here already, he already made a date plan with Victor. He can't back down now.  
  
Not with rent due at the end of the week.  
  
He pops his collar and brings the tie around his neck, crossing it over a few times and bringing it in a loop to make a simple knot. He adjusts it to fit his neck, and straightens out his collar. It doesn’t look bad at all, and for just a moment Yuuri can ignore the weight of the tie on his chest reminding him of just how much it’s worth.  
  
But now is the real deal.  
  
Yuuri shakily takes the jacket off of its hanger. The tag is already visible, hanging on the label. If it was an animate object, Yuuri would have heard the tag taunting him, saying _‘Read me!’_ Yuuri looks at the tag and almost drops the jacket. He feels like he’s going to have a heart attack.  
  
$650.  
  
$250. And $650. That’s $900 in all. He’ll only have $100 left on his Sweet Rewards card. That's only half of the money he needs to pay the rest of his rent for the month.  
  
...This is only the first day as a sugar baby and he’s already spending this much money.  
  
_Just how much money does this Nikiforov guy have?!_ Yuuri wonders in disbelief as he remembers that Victor said he frequents the shop a lot.  
  
Yuuri puts his right arm through the jacket before the left, then adjusts it on his body. The black and the blue looks pretty together, in Yuuri’s opinion, and Yuuri decides that before he regrets it even more, he’ll buy them.  
  
_If Victor could give me this much money to buy clothes... he's surely able to pay my rent. To pay my tuition. To pay for my dance equipment._ Yuuri carefully takes the jacket and tie off before opens the curtain.  
  
"Have you made your decision, sir?" The associate turns to him.  
  
"Yes. I'll buy it," Yuuri says sternly, internally defending himself from the amused expression of the associate, who knows that Yuuri was bewildered by the prices of the clothes he’s holding. His mind is only focused on the prize. Having a steady income of money for as long as Victor wants him. Being able to be financially stable.

 _But is that fair? Fair to Victor? What does Victor want with me?_  
  
"Understood. I will ring you up now," the man states, pulling Yuuri out of his stupor. He punches in the price of the tie and jacket, and the register calculates the tax. "The total comes out to be $992.25."  
  
Yuuri's eyes widen. Tax did not occur to him at all.  
  
But...he was given $1000 after all. If he was given the money, then...  
  
Yuuri nods, confirming the amount. He pulls up the rewards card on his phone, which looks like a normal credit card once it comes up, and once the blue lights of the keypad light up, he places his phone on top.  
  
A receipt prints, confirming the purchase in a matter of seconds. Just like that, Yuuri has $7.75 left.  
  
"Would you like to wear it now, sir?" the man asks, to which Yuuri nods. "Then, I will take off the tags now," he says as he pulls out scissors. "I’ll also put both tags in the chest pocket of the jacket for your reference." Yuuri observes as he snips off the plastic of the tags and throws them away before putting the small paper tag into the pocket and handing it over to Yuuri. Yuuri does the same routine again, this time with Phichit making sure the tie is nearly done, and once he's all fixed up, he and Phichit leave the store.  
  
"... $993, Yuuri? Holy shit," Phichit finally comments.  
  
"...Please don't remind me. I feel like I made a bad mistake already," Yuuri grimaces as they make their way back to the car. The chauffeur realizes that they’re returning, and gets out the car to open the door for the two. He closes the door and goes back to the wheel.  
  
"We are now on our way to Everest, per Mr. Nikiforov's request."  
  
"Yes," Yuuri plainly responds, fiddling with the two buttons on the cuff of his jacket.  
  
The car ride is quiet, Yuuri stuck in thought about the purchases he just made. What kind of guy is Victor? What caught his attention so suddenly? Why Yuuri?  
  
"...ri...Yuuri!!" Phichit snaps his fingers at him to bring him back to reality. Yuuri shakes his head, realizing he zoned out.  
  
"Mr. Yuuri, we have arrived."  
  
"Yuuri, let's get out of the car! There's barely any parking here, we need to let the chauffeur leave, okay?" The driver leaves his seat and opens the door for Yuuri and Phichit again. The two step out the car and thank the chauffeur for driving him.

As Yuuri watches the car drive away, he feels that familiar twist in his gut, the same one he gets before a performance or a test he pulled an all-nighter for. He turns to Phichit but sees that he's already crossing the street, not giving Yuuri any time to think as he chases after him.

“Phichit, don't go on without me!”

“Sorry,” Phichit laughs a bit as Yuuri catches up. They continue to cross the street together. A bit of wind picks up as they do so. “I guess I'm just a little excited for you.”

“Good. I'm not."

“Still thinking you're going to get kidnapped? The guy has a poodle as his profile picture, Yuuri. How many people do you know who have dogs and aren’t good people?”

“...None.”

“Exactly." 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nervous, Phichit. I’m almost literally wearing a thousand dollars right now!”

“Even though you chose a lame tie to go with that jacket?”

“L-lame!?” Yuuri stutters. “You didn't say that before!”

“I mean, you looked like you were on the verge of shattering into pieces if I said something bad, so I let it slide.”

“Should I just take it off? Is it that bad? Would he turn me down because of it? Phichit!” Yuuri calls out desperately as Phichit picks up the pace again, his nerves getting the best of him. He wants to take off his tie after what Phichit said, but then he would look much too casual for a place like Everest.

“Just worry about meeting up with him, Yuuri,” Phichit replies, looking around. Since neither of them have been in this area before, they aren’t sure where the entrance is. “Besides, I seriously doubt he'll criticize your tie within seconds of meeting you. Has he sent you a message?" 

“I don't think so,” says Yuuri before taking out his phone to check. There’s a message from Victor, but it’s from about ten minutes ago. He glances up once he feels Phichit tugging at his arm.

“That looks like an entrance, across the street, right? Let's try going there.”

“Isn't that where the chauffeur dropped us off…?”

“Yeah. I got excited and accidentally led us away from our destination,” Phichit laughs lightheartedly. However, Yuuri's slightly clammy hand grabbing his is the only indication Phichit needs to see that Yuuri’s still extremely nervous. He lets Yuuri keep holding his hand as they cross the same street again. “By the way, what time is it?”

As Yuuri checks the time, he also quickly skims over Victor's recent message.

[My apologies. I almost forgot to let you know where we would be meeting. I'm standing outside of the lobby. I'm the only person here currently, so it shouldn't be difficult to find me.]

“It's…7:50?! How much time did I waste at the boutique?!” Yuuri’s heart begins to pound as he looks at the time, and then he lets go of Phichit’s hand briskly to break out into a jog towards the doors Phichit was talking about earlier. At this point, Phichit just sighs softly and watches him head towards the doors, knowing that what happens from here on out would be under Yuuri’s control.

The wind is in Yuuri’s face as he runs, and he can feel his hair becoming even more unkempt while he bounds up the small set of stairs two at a time. He’s aware that reservations at restaurants like Everest are a big deal, and being even a minute late can cost him and Victor their table. Once he reaches the top step, he puts his hands on the front of his legs, looking down at the ground as he catches his breath a bit. He couldn’t afford to let Victor see him huffing for breath in the lobby. He can tell Phichit didn't go after him, but he can still sense someone's presence. It makes him a bit anxious, not knowing whose presence it is. Then, he remembers what Victor had said in his message.

_I’m standing outside of the lobby._

The full weight of those words sink in, and Yuuri finds himself frozen in place. Unless the chauffeur had dropped them off in the wrong place, there’s no other explanation. There’s no other reason why he can feel eyes on him again. And there’s nothing else Yuuri can do now but affirm his suspicions.

He gradually ventures to look up, completely silent. A pair of sleek, shiny black shoes are the first to come into view in front of him. Beyond that, his eyes travel up the stranger's legs, to their torso. Yuuri’s eyes take in the deep, rich black of their vest which is beneath a light gray suit jacket. Their jacket, unlike Yuuri’s, has a front pocket, which has a faint blue-green pocket square neatly folded inside of it. As Yuuri’s gaze wanders over to their tie, he notices that the pocket square and the tie have the same pattern, and as Yuuri looks more closely, he sees faint traces of embroidery on them, intricately patterned swirls of an even fainter, yet smoother color. Without even noticing, Yuuri moves slightly closer to whoever’s in front of him to get a better look. Once he’s conscious of this, he hastily looks up, ready to apologize.

But as Yuuri looks up, that soft hue is nothing compared to the intense, bright aqua blue that looks him in the eyes almost amusedly—a blue that makes Yuuri think of oceans and skies, of things unknown and waiting to be explored. _There you are_ , they seem to tell Yuuri, although he's not sure why. 

Those eyes render Yuuri speechless in that moment. He thought he had rehearsed enough for this, relaying the scene in his head over and over again. But he didn't know that Victor would be like this. He didn’t know that an aquamarine that could silence his lips as well as the tremors in his hands existed. He didn't know that long, gray lashes could make Yuuri forget his own name. He opens his mouth, but there's nothing to say, nothing that seems appropriate under the scrutiny of this man’s godlike beauty.

The wind that had blown against Yuuri when he was running calms down. The silence between them is absolute until the man in front of him decides to speak, and then Yuuri hears Victor Nikiforov’s voice for the first time.

“You must be Yuuri.”


	2. Indulge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, we’re…honestly not that sorry to update this more than a month later. But here it is. Chapter 2. A whopping 30-something pages on Google docs. Over 15,000 words. We’ve poured our sweat and tears into this, so thank you for being patient with us. We hope this makes up for the wait :’)
> 
> We were blown away with the reception that chapter 1 received, honestly. Even if we haven’t responded to all of the comments, trust us: we’ve read every single one of them and died multiple times over them. Thank you so much for your feedback, it really helps us to power through!! 
> 
> We would also like to give a huge shoutout to our dear friend http://minty-mayhem.tumblr.com/ for helping us proofread this chapter!
> 
> Something to clarify, since some people have asked! Phichit and Yuuri are the same age; they’re both 20 years old. Victor is…well…you’ll find out soon enough. 
> 
> Without further ado…Chapter 2.

Yuuri's tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

There's no reason why this man’s voice should sound like a waterfall in the desert. Yuuri wants to hear more of it, _needs_ to hear more of it. Never has his name sounded so appealing on someone else's tongue. The tongue of a complete stranger.

 _Who am I? Oh yeah...I_ must _be Yuuri...that's me...and he_ has _to be Victor._

And that's what he’s planning to say: “And you must be Victor.” It’ll make a good impression, show Yuuri's smoother side—assuming he has one—and possibly set a good atmosphere. Maybe it’ll even come off as flirtatious, and end up making Victor more generous with his money, if that’s possible.

Instead, his courage leaves him, and he manages to mumble with a half-numb tongue, “Y-yes, I'm Yuuwi.” He immediately wants to punch himself for biting his tongue while speaking. He takes a mental note: _Victor Nikiforov’s eyes can make you lose control of your own body. Great._

“Yuuwi?” Victor repeats, a mischievous smile on his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, and his silver fringe follows with the movement, fully revealing his other blue-green eye.

Yuuri understands why he keeps one partially hidden—he’s twice as speechless now. How can someone like this be interested in him? He’s a plain, average college student rolling in debt and anxiety. What is this man, this ethereal being, doing with Yuuri? Just how bored is he to choose to spend time with him?

“Ah...no, I meant...Yuuri. I'm Yuuri.” His voice is more strained than he'd like it to be, but he's grateful he’s at least capable of correcting himself. The attempt to flirt is out the window, somewhere with his other failed attempts at socialization, and now he has to deal with what’s left at his disposal. 

Thankfully, the sound of steps bounding up the stairs interrupts the moment between them. Yuuri turns quickly, relieved to see his enthusiastic friend behind him. 

“Yuuri! Wha—oh.” Phichit falls silent as he takes in the scene, smiling in surprise. One glance at each other is enough for Phichit to know that Yuuri's asking for help to get past this awkwardly tense atmosphere. It's just like Phichit said: if Yuuri can't build his resolve and play his part, he'll get eaten up—and Yuuri feels as if he's about to be devoured by a sea of turquoise.

“Are you Yuuri's friend?” That velvety voice fills up the space in Yuuri's head again, and he wants to hear more. He wants to hear his name again, only from those lips. Over and over again.

Once he realizes his own thoughts, Yuuri's face flushes a deep red. _Why am I getting so worked up over his voice!?_ he scolds himself. _There's no way I'm lusting over someone I met a minute ago. Even if he is dressed well. And his hair is shiny. And his eyes are breathtaking. And his voice is smooth and low but not too low, just right. And—oh. Oh no._

Luckily for him, Victor's gaze shifts over to Phichit in that same moment.

“Yes!” Phichit answers with a grin, walking to Yuuri's side. “My name is Phichit. Yuuri and I are roommates.”

“Oh?” There it is. Again. Like a drink of cold water after hours of dance practice, alone in one of the university’s studios. “Do you two attend the same university?”

“Yeah, we’re both college sophomores.”

Their conversation becomes background noise as Yuuri is gradually entrapped in his own thoughts. _Okay, Yuuri, calm down_ , he begins to rationalize _. Phichit’s conversing with him just fine. I can do the same. All I need to do is take the plunge. From the looks of it, he doesn't have a problem socializing. If I start up a conversation, he'll follow through, and we can learn more about each other. After all, he's human, too. Our lifestyles might be polar opposites, but he's human. We might be leagues apart, but he's human. He's —_

Victor looks over mid-conversation, throwing a wink at him.

_God help me._

Phichit is just about done, and he decides that he should let them go before they miss their reservation. However, he wants to check in with Yuuri just one last time so he can make sure Yuuri is mentally prepared for this. Yuuri’s attention is directed to Phichit once he feels a slight tug on his jacket, and steps away with Phichit until they’re several feet away from Victor, out of earshot.

“How are you feeling?” murmurs Phichit.

“Like I’m going to explode,” Yuuri calmly answers.

“I hope that’s a joke. You didn’t eat anything weird before coming here, did you?”

“Of course not, I just ate what you made for us. That’s not why I’m going to self-destruct. Have you seen him, Phichit?”

“I just talked to him, yeah. He seems pretty laid back.”

“No, like, _looked_ at him.”

“...Uh, yeah.”

“How were you able to come up with a coherent sentence in front of him?”

Phichit breaks out into laughter at the look of pure disbelief on Yuuri’s face. “Listen, Yuuri, he’s not some sort of untouchable immortal, okay? I’m sure you’ll be fine as long as you act like yourself. But if you’re really not feeling up to it, you don’t have to go through with this.”

Yuuri is silent for a moment. Even this late in the game, he has a chance to back out? Even with Victor standing feet away from him? If he tells Victor he doesn’t want to, will he really be okay with that? There’s a small part of Yuuri that wants to do just that—call it off, curl up in their apartment with cocoa and a fuzzy blanket and try to forget all the stress piled on top of him. But that part is just that—the smaller part, the second thought, because after seeing Victor, after slipping on the jacket and tie he’s wearing right now, he knows he doesn’t want to turn back. Part of the cause is purely out of politeness, of course. Yuuri can’t leave Victor hanging with a reservation at Everest, with nearly a thousand dollars spent on half of an outfit. However, the other part, the one that Yuuri isn’t as ready to admit, is that he’s secretly enjoying this. The silky tie hanging from his neck makes him feel just a bit better. The jacket is snug on his shoulders and comfortable, almost making him forget the price he paid for both items. And meeting Victor feels surreal, too much like a dream—but if it’s a dream, Yuuri might as well take his chances.

It’s a part of him that rarely ever surfaces, and when it does Yuuri is nearly terrified by his own logic. But in situations like these, where he has to make a quick decision, it’s ultimately this side of him that guides his actions.

“...I’m okay,” Yuuri murmurs to Phichit with a small smile. “I mean...I’m new to this, obviously, but I’ll make it. What’s the worst that can happen? If I make a fool out of myself I guess I just won’t meet up with him again. Besides, I can call you if anything goes wrong.” At some point during his response, Yuuri realizes that his words aren’t so much directed at Phichit as it is to himself, but either way it helps to solidify his resolve.

“Let me know when you make eye contact for more than five seconds,” Phichit teases, earning a half-hearted glare from Yuuri.

“We technically already did.”  
  
“Ooh, bold.”

 “Okay, Phichit,” Yuuri laughs a bit out of nervousness, nudging him. “I have to go. How are you getting back?”

“Probably the train!” Phichit responds before patting Yuuri’s back, then pushing him towards Victor gently. “I don’t want to impose on your time anymore. Have fun, Yuuri!” He waves to them both before bounding down the steps with enough energy to make Yuuri think he was jumping down instead. Yuuri lingers, watching him walk away for a few seconds, half-wishing he had invited Phichit go eat with both him and Victor for additional moral support.

“So that’s your friend?”

Yuuri jumps a bit, not even having noticed that Victor walked over to stand behind him. “Y-yeah. That’s Phichit.” In his mind, Yuuri continues to tell himself to calm down, take a deep breath, inhale, exhale, breathe, _don’t stop—_

“You look lovely, by the way.”  
  
“O-oh…” _Breathe._

“How much did you spend?” 

This time, all Yuuri can do is laugh briskly and nervously. It’s the only answer Victor needs.

“I’m glad I could spoil you already,” the older man remarks with a tone of satisfaction, as if it gave him joy that he spent so much on someone he barely knows. Yuuri realizes that that’s actually the only plausible explanation for him to speak like that, and it only makes him more nervous. “Although…” 

That one word makes Yuuri’s heart sink to his stomach. He can hear it now. _‘I didn’t think you were going to spend that much. Just imagine if you’d gotten a full suit. I would’ve had to give you at least twice as much. Are you used to spending so much money?’_

Instead, Victor reaches out, and Yuuri watches in apprehension as he takes Yuuri’s tie into his hands, examining it. “I-is there, um…,” Yuuri manages to mutter, their faces particularly close. “Something w-wrong?”

“Oh, not at all,” Victor chuckles, then looks down at Yuuri’s tie. “It’s just that, well...if it was me, I would have picked out a tie that was a bit more extravagant, to bring out more of your charm.”

“...Oh.”

Yuuri knows that’s not an adequate answer. Even a small “thank you” would be better than a single, dumbfounded syllable. However, Victor’s statement impacts Yuuri too deeply for him to respond any other way. Two voices are simultaneously conversing in his head. _Victor thinks_ I _have charm? Has he ever looked in a mirror before?_ _Not that he even needs one. Maybe the one who should be wearing glasses right now is him._ The other voice notices something that bugs him a bit more.

_He actually criticized my tie._

Yuuri makes a mental note to tell Phichit he was a liar later. 

“Well, Yuuwi,” the older man teases once more as he lets go of the baby blue tie, making some of Yuuri’s embarrassment come back, although not as strong. “Shall we go?” Yuuri doesn’t answer at first, expecting Victor to just carry the conversation on, but when a brief moment of silence passes between them he realizes that Victor is patiently waiting for an answer.

“O-oh...yeah. I mean, sure. Er, yes. Sorry.” Yuuri adjusts his glasses, averting his gaze. Now it was twice that he made the atmosphere awkward between them. _Victor probably thinks I’m awkward and way too introverted. I can’t even say a complete thought in front of him. Bringing someone like me into a restaurant like that, what is he—_

“No need to be formal.” Victor’s smile changes to a softer one, at once expelling Yuuri’s tumbling thoughts and forcing him to focus on the present. Yuuri straightens himself up, nodding shyly. If Phichit says Victor seems like a good person, it’s safe to trust his opinion. Phichit is good at reading people, and the only evidence needed is the ease with which he can read Yuuri’s body language. “We may be dining somewhere that’s a bit strict on clothing, but that doesn’t mean you should go out of your way to act uncomfortably. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

It astounds Yuuri, the ease that the man in front of him carries himself with. He barely knows him, yet Yuuri feels that if Victor is calm and relaxed, he can at least try to afford to do the same. There’s an air around Victor that exudes trust and knowledge, but it’s different from the kind of trust and knowledge that Yuuri catches from his professors. No, this is...security. Something Yuuri hasn’t felt in quite a while.

“Thank you...um...I’ll try my best,” Yuuri says, and Victor’s eager nod makes his lips turn up just a bit, not feeling as intimidated as he was before. They start walking towards the entrance, and Victor holds the door to the lobby open, gesturing for Yuuri to walk in first. Once Yuuri begins to walk, he feels a weight on his back and quickly turns to look at Victor, immediately recognizing it as his hand. It’s gentle, tentative—yet, at the same time, firm.

“Is this too much?” asks Victor. Yuuri wants to yell “yes”, but the sensation of Victor’s hand isn’t entirely unwelcome. Neither is he ready to confidently tell Victor that what he’s doing is making Yuuri feel good. Ultimately, Yuuri settles with a small shake of his head, and Victor readily accepts that as his answer before leading him into the building.

The lobby is spacious and silent, and a glance at the vintage design, desaturated color scheme, and antique structure is all Yuuri needs to know that this place is at least several decades old, if not over a century. The entire first floor serves as the lobby, with a center space so large it could be used as a ballroom if the occasion presented itself. Four pillars at each corner mark the perimeter, and a single receptionist’s desk is situated on the north side of the lobby. While one person sits behind the desk, someone in an identical uniform stands to the side. It only takes them a few seconds to notice Victor and Yuuri walking in, since the echo of their footsteps is the only thing making noise in the lobby, besides the tapping of the keyboard at the receptionist’s desk.

The standing attendant leaves their position to walk up to them, meeting them halfway. “Are you here for a reservation at Everest?” she asks with a smile.

“Yes, an eight o’clock reservation for two,” Victor responds. It only takes a few moments for the attendant behind the desk to verify his reservation.

“Right this way,” the former attendant says as she guides them to the elevator. She presses the button for them, and once the doors open, gestures just like Victor did earlier for them to go in first. The presence of a third person makes Yuuri hypersensitive to the sensation of Victor’s hand, still situated on the small of his back, but Victor shows little to no signs of retreating his hand anytime soon. On the contrary, he gives Yuuri a small smile as their gazes meet briefly. Yuuri can feel heat rush to his ears. He isn’t used to such close proximity, especially with someone he’s known for under five minutes. Suddenly, he comes to a realization and tenses up slightly, just enough for Victor to notice.

“Is everything alright?” Victor murmurs in apprehension. The attendant doesn’t seem interested in their exchange, since she doesn’t even glance over at them.

“You…,” Yuuri starts.

“Yes?”

“...You _are_ Victor, right?”

The out of place question takes Victor by surprise, before he laughs a bit. “So you came up an elevator with someone you weren’t even sure was who you’re supposed to meet with?” The intrusive question just makes Yuuri more flustered.

“T-that’s not it, I just forgot to ask, and since you knew my name I just assumed you were who I was looking for…,” his voice dwindles down from a murmur to a cautious whisper, becoming increasingly aware of the stupidity of his question. “Just forget I said that…” 

“I was wondering when you would ask, though.”

A moment of silence passes before Yuuri dares to look at Victor again, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. “Really…?”

“Truly, Yuuri. I’d like to know your full name as well, if it’s not too much to ask.”

“O-oh.” Yuuri also realizes that they didn’t properly introduce themselves to each other, and feels even more inadequate. However, they have to start at some point, and there’s no time like the present. “I’m Yuuri Katsuki.”

“Yuuri Katsuki…,” Victor repeats, and it happens all over again, just like the first time. His name on Victor’s tongue sounds completely different, like he’s describing a different person, and Yuuri can’t figure out for the life of him why it sounds so much better, so satisfying. “That’s a charming name.”

“T-thank you…,” Yuuri tentatively answers. He wants to argue against that, but now isn’t the time or place. If Victor only knew how unfitting his name is, how big a mistake his parents had made in using such strong words to name him when in reality, he was unstable, inexperienced, and the general opposite of what his name entailed.

It definitely isn’t something to tell Victor, who possesses the sole ability of paying Yuuri’s rent for the foreseeable future.

“And you are…?” Yuuri ventures to ask, attempting not to get too caught up in his own thoughts.

“Victor Nikiforov. No need to worry,” answers Victor with an amused huff. Their conversation is cut off by the ding of the elevator before the doors open, exposing them to the fortieth floor of the building. The entrance to Everest is directly in front of them, and the attendant holds the elevator open for them to step out before closing the elevator and disappearing behind them. Once again, Victor’s hand is on the small of Yuuri’s back. Surprisingly enough, Yuuri finds that he’s already beginning to get used to this sensation. Their walk to the entrance of the restaurant is a relatively calm one, and once they step inside Victor checks in with another attendant, who confirms their reservation.

“Victor…,” Yuuri murmurs, well aware that it’s the first time he’s called out to him by name. The effect is immediate. Victor turns to him with an expectant smile. “I didn’t make us late, did I…?”  
  
“Hm…” The curious hum from Victor only makes Yuuri feel more guilty, but he watches in awe as Victor pulls back his sleeve to check his watch. The golden rim glints in the lighting of the entrance, and Yuuri can’t help staring at the numerous intricacies of the watch, each piece in perfect harmony with the other like a well-trained orchestra. It’s one of those things Yuuri can sit down and observe for hours on end. Victor catches him watching, chuckling a bit before smiling at Yuuri. “We’re a minute or two early, which is fine. I usually prefer ten to fifteen minutes before a reservation, but I became a bit preoccupied with you.”

Unfortunately for Victor, the attempt at flattery goes unnoticed. Yuuri figures that there are as many zeros attached to the price of the watch as the knobs and subdials built into it.

“Mr. Nikiforov?” A waitress approaches them with a warm smile, her curly hair in a neat bun. “Your table is ready.”

“Let’s go, Yuuri,” says Victor. His hand takes its regular perch on the small of Yuuri’s back, and they follow the waitress into the restaurant.

Yuuri is almost immediately left breathless. To see it in pictures through Google is one thing—to walk and breathe in that space is something else entirely. Soft hues of beige and gold decorate the walls, and large floor-to-ceiling windows are spaced out every few feet. In between the windows are several flower arrangements on pedestals, giving an organic air to the setting. A few chandeliers are situated throughout the room as the main source of lighting. For added lighting, a couple of candles are set on each table. On either sides of the restaurant are large mirrors, giving off the illusion that the restaurant continues forever and beyond. A smooth, matte black grand piano is situated in one corner of the room, with a woman in a wine colored dress sitting at the bench, getting ready to play her next piece. The tables are a mix of square and circular arrangements, and although they are snugly close each table gives off its own aura of privacy. The rainy skies from earlier that evening have dissipated, and left in their place are a few stray clouds in the night sky. While the scenery outside is dark, the soft lights of the restaurant and warmer colors offer a stark contrast to the current climate.

Yuuri is taking in everything with so much wonder that he almost trips down the small set of stairs heading down to the tables. He thankfully catches his own fall and glances around quickly while regaining his footing.

Only Victor seems to notice, which is exactly what Yuuri needed. 

The only thing Yuuri can think of as the waitress walks them over to their table is how much he doesn't belong. He notices it in the way the people around him carry themselves through their body language—chatting casually, chuckling languidly, holding utensils daintily, addressing others firmly. He's reminded by what they're wearing, sparkling silvers and golds, shining blues and blacks, smooth grays and whites. Sure, Yuuri is wearing black and white, but he knows that what he's wearing doesn't suit him, that if not for Victor, he wouldn't be here at all.

“Yuuri,” calls Victor, and Yuuri immediately murmurs an apology before walking over to their table, realizing that he had lagged behind them.

Yuuri sees the circular table the waitress brought them to, with shiny silverware and an intricately decorated tablecloth and centerpiece, a floor-to-ceiling window behind it displaying the thousands of lights coming from the skyscrapers, and hesitates for a second, just staring. Just thinking. 

_I'm a broke college student. What am I doing here?_

The whole situation suddenly makes Yuuri hypersensitive once again, but for a very different reason, self-conscious to an unnecessary extent. He wants to run out, to apologize to Victor for bringing someone like him to a place like Everest, a place full of people who know what they’re doing and what they want, people who likely never struggle with the things Yuuri does.

The sudden increased feeling of something on the small of his back makes Yuuri jolt, and when he comes back to reality— _I’m still here_ , he tells himself, almost in disbelief—he recognizes the feeling as Victor’s hand again. He had put some pressure on Yuuri’s back to grab his attention.

“I-I’m sorry…,” Yuuri mumbles. “I just…”

“It's a lot to take in, isn't it?” Victor smiles a bit, and Yuuri finds himself a bit calmer. That smile isn't one of pity or amusement, which would have just made him feel worse, but rather of understanding and patience.

“Yeah...I’ve never been in a place like this before,” replies Yuuri, and he walks up to the table, ready to pull out a chair, but Victor is there before he is, and Yuuri feels his face heat up slightly as Victor pulls out the chair for him. “Thank you…” After Yuuri sits down, he watches Victor sit next to him before tentatively opening the menu up. Yuuri nervously picks up the second menu that remained on the table. He’s thankful for the wooden armrests on the chairs, which lets him rest his forearms on more easily and hold the menu closer to himself.

He opens the menu, and the prices are the first thing his eyes go to, a natural instinct. However, he doesn’t see any, which only makes him more nervous. If a restaurant doesn't even care about showing their prices, it’s because the people eating there don't care about how much they’re paying. There are, though, a few numbers next to some of the names. _Is this...a calorie count?_ Yuuri ponders. _There are appetizers only a little over forty calories? I guess that’s a good thing, considering I ate a few hours ago…_

“Yuuri,” Victor interrupts his thoughts, “Don’t pay attention to the numbers. I’m treating you tonight, remember?”

Yuuri swears his heart just stopped. _Those aren’t calories._

“You can have anything you want,” Victor pipes up again, as if on cue, and Yuuri completely freezes.

“I-I can’t possibly do that…!” Yuuri raises his voice in panic, frantically glancing between Victor and the menu. “These prices…! Two meals would literally—” He cuts himself off before Victor can know what his situation is, why he signed up for Sweet Meet in the first place. _Two meals would cover my rent._ He doesn’t want to seem greedy. Deep down, he knows he isn’t being greedy in agreeing to meet Victor, but no matter how he wants to phrase it, it always ends up with him sounding as if he only wants Victor’s money. Now, there are other factors involved. Victor is easy to be around. He has charisma. He’s attractive. Very attractive.

 _Okay. Stop right there_ , Yuuri thinks, putting down mental brakes.

“Yuuri, if that’s what you want, then that’s fine. But the offer is still on the table. Whatever you want, I can give it to you,” Victor casually reminds him, Yuuri knowing very well that he doesn’t mean that just for dinner, but for anything. He gulps, thinking about what Victor just said. _He’s right. This is the reason why I signed up. I need money. And he’s willing to give it to me if I keep him company. That’s what this kind of relationship is._ When Yuuri glances over at Victor, he sees that he isn’t expecting an answer from Yuuri, which makes him feel a bit more relieved.

“Welcome to Everest,” another waiter comes by, setting down a glass of water for each of them. Victor replies with a firm thanks while Yuuri nods and murmurs his own. He’s barely had time to look at the menu, and much less has any idea of what he wants to order. After all, he’s already eaten with Phichit. “May I interest you in today’s specialty wine?”  
  
_Wine?_  

“Ah, no thank you,” Victor readily replies with a smile, leaving Yuuri without the need to explain that not only is he clueless about wine, but that he’s underage as well. It’ll only make him look more out of place. “We prefer non-alcoholic drinks.”

“I see. Then, what can I get for you, sir?” the waiter looks at Yuuri, and he’s suddenly put on the spot. He hasn’t cared to look at the list of beverages, either. The constraints of time and his overall nervousness make Yuuri simply shake his head.

“I-I’ll be fine with water. Thank you.” Yuuri’s thoughts attempt to intrude. _Just water? I could’ve at least looked at the menu. I’m such a mess right now, I—_

“I’ll have raspberry lemonade,” Victor continues, interjecting Yuuri’s train of thought. The waiter leaves after a few moments, and Yuuri feels like he can breathe again.

Victor’s plans don’t include giving Yuuri a moment to catch his breath, however.

“Sorry to message you out of the blue to meet you tonight,” Victor suddenly apologizes, leaving Yuuri to wonder why exactly he wanted to meet so soon. Not that he minds much. At least he knows that he might get the money for rent by the end of the night. “But now that we’re here, just the two of us, I would like to get to know you, Yuuri.” Victor reaches out to brush some of the hair out of Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri’s breath catches in his throat at the gesture. His touch is so faint, yet it impacts him so deeply it leaves him breathless. “If you have any questions for me, then ask away.” He cups Yuuri’s cheek with one hand, smiling softly, yet with a hint of suggestiveness. “Let’s build some trust in our relationship.”

Yuuri is frozen in place, and he’s completely focused on the feeling of Victor’s fingers, how firm yet tender and smooth they are, so incredibly smooth, like silk against his cheek. There’s a heavy silence hanging in the air. No words need to be exchanged between them. Victor’s eyes and hands do all the talking. After a few moments, Victor smiles and pulls his hands away, and Yuuri realizes that he just let him caress his face for seconds on end, allowed it to happen in a restaurant where they are definitely not alone. Yuuri’s whole face flushes at the skinship. He can feel his blush slowly creep up his face with each passing second as if he was a thermometer. He has to come up with something fast, ask something, anything, absolutely anything at all to distract him from the warmth left on his cheek from those smooth fingers.

“U-um...! You have a dog?!” Yuuri blurts out without thinking. _Oh my god, of course he has a dog. What a stupid thing to say, oh my god, I want to punch myself,_ Yuuri screams internally. It’s a miracle he hasn’t been kicked out of the restaurant yet.

To Yuuri’s astonishment, Victor’s eyes are almost shining as he perks up at the opportunity to talk about his dog. Compared to the proximity and the intensity of the scene he made a few seconds ago, Victor is now the complete opposite, as proud as the parent of a child in a school talent show. “Yes, I do! She’s my pride and joy! Her name is Makkachin, and she’s a standard poodle! I got her around...twelve years ago? Isn’t she precious? I know you saw a picture of her already, but I have a whole album of her on my phone. Here, let me pull it up!”

_What?_

Yuuri is in a state of shock. He isn’t expecting this energetic, excited aura from Victor after seeing the way he carried himself outside of the lobby and on their way to the restaurant. It’s as if he had been waiting for an opportunity to vent out all his energy. As Victor scoots his chair closer to Yuuri’s, the armrests touching, he notices that Victor is even less conscious of their proximity as he leans in, their arms touching as Victor selects an album on his phone labeled, as one would expect, “Makkachin”.

“Hm…” Yuuri watches in awe as Victor quickly scrolls through the seemingly endless rows of pictures. “Do you want to see her as a puppy, or recent pictures?”

“Um...recent?” Yuuri tentatively answers. Victor responds by quickly scrolling to the bottom, humming to himself before he found a good starting point. Once he chooses a photo, he turns the screen so that Yuuri can see as well.

Yuuri may be nervous around Victor, but dogs are his weak spot. Upon seeing the picture of Victor’s poodle in a Santa costume, he can’t help but smile a bit. “This was from last Christmas! She loves dressing up during the holidays,” Victor narrates, swiping from one picture to the next. Some seem to be repetitive, but Victor doesn’t think about deleting them. “I take her to the park once a week, and I run in the mornings with her. This is New Years! I got her a pair of glasses with ‘2017’ on them, and they fit perfectly. And since I was born in Russia, I’m used to celebrating Christmas on the seventh of January, so we celebrated it again later.”  
  
“You’re Russian…?” Yuuri asks, although now that he thinks about it, Victor’s name does sound Russian. The surname Nikiforov especially stands out to him.

“Yes. I came to the United States over ten years ago, and I’ve been living here in Chicago for about five years.” Victor smiles as he comes upon a different set of pictures, not giving Yuuri a chance to find out more about him. “Ah, this is from Valentine’s Day!”

“Is she wearing...a halo?” notes Yuuri in apprehension.

“Made of felt hearts, yes! She was supposed to be Cupid, but the bow kept slipping off and the case of arrows wasn’t stable enough so they fell out. She was content with the halo instead.” Victor lingers on a certain photo, chuckling a bit. As Yuuri looks, he sees only the poodle’s head sticking out from a hole in the ground that looks like it was dug by the dog herself. “This was Groundhog Day.”

The sudden realization that Makkachin was imitating a groundhog makes Yuuri giggle a bit, and it immediately doesn’t go unnoticed by Victor, although Yuuri is conscious of it and a bit flustered. “W-what other pictures are there…?”

“...Let’s see,” Victor says after a moment, deciding to spare Yuuri from an intense interrogation. Soon, he’s once again engrossed in pictures of Makkachin. “This was President’s Day! She’s supposed to be Washington. You can tell by the wig. Ah, and this is Mardi Gras. I made sure she had bead necklaces of every color available! And this is from last week, on St. Patrick’s Day! I think green suits her well. Any color is good on her, really. She could be a model if she wanted to!” Yuuri can’t help glancing between the pictures and Victor. It sounds like Victor is describing his daughter, not his dog. Seeing him like this makes Yuuri regard him in a different light than before.

Eventually, the initial emotional high that Yuuri set off in Victor at the mention of his dog begins to wear off—several minutes later, during which the waiter drops off their drinks with an amused expression that doesn’t go unnoticed by Yuuri—and Victor finally calms down after having shown Yuuri at least a hundred pictures of Makkachin. He clears his throat, signaling that he’s slightly embarrassed and ready to move on to another conversation. “S-so… tell me about yourself, Yuuri,” Victor starts.

Yuuri feels less paralyzed after seeing the side of Victor that just came out. There really isn’t much for him to feel stiff about, he realizes. Yes, the kind of relationship between them is still there, but Phichit was right. Anyone with a dog can’t be evil. On the contrary, he seems pretty sweet.

“U-um…w-well…,” Yuuri starts. “I’m a dime-a-dozen theater and performance major at the University of Chicago with a concentration in dance…I’m 20 years old…u-uh…I’m originally from Japan?” Yuuri tries to give Victor some points about him that aren’t “I stay up all night playing video games with my roommate” and “I have extreme anxiety that cripples my everyday life”.

“Oh, you’re a dance major? What style do you dance?” Victor asks, genuinely curious.

“I mainly do ballet for my major, but I'm also part of the hip hop dance crew at school,” Yuuri explains. There’s a bit of silence between them before he starts to talk again. “I-it's a really big difference, isn't it? I doubt you'd expect someone like me to be into hip hop, huh…”

Victor smiles. “Mm…it was definitely a surprise. But I like surprises.” Yuuri’s heart races and the first thought that comes to mind is, _That's unfair_. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“Um…” Yuuri doesn’t know what else to say, so Victor decides to poke at other topics to see if it’ll get Yuuri to talk.

“Why did you download the app in the first place, my dear?” Victor asks. Yuuri feels like he got right to the point. He knows why…but should Yuuri lie? Should he tell the truth? His prolonged silence makes Victor worry. “Yuuri?”

“One…one of my friends suggested it. I…I’m kind of...financially troubled, so to speak…” Yuuri tries not to reveal much about the financial situation he’s in, so he simply reiterates the first part. “Y-yeah…my friend suggested it though, and well…I’m not really seeing anyone, so…” Yuuri trails off, not really knowing what else to say after being put on the spot like that.

“Friend? Is it the one we met earlier? Phichit, right?”

“Yes…he was the one that suggested it,” Yuuri replies.

“Well, Yuuri…,” Victor starts, taking a sip of his lemonade. “You might already have an idea about the conditions surrounding our meeting, but I just want to reiterate that being a sugar baby should be enjoyable. It’s about indulging, about enjoying the finer things in life. During the duration of our relationship, I do plan on taking you on trips and spoiling you with a lot of gifts. If you thought the clothes earlier was too much, then you have a lot waiting in store.”

Unfortunately, Yuuri had just taken a sip of water, and he lets out a little cough, which concerns Victor. Out of a sense of urgency to explain himself, he pipes up without thinking. “I-I thought we were just meeting once!” he blurts out, but immediately goes silent when he sees Victor’s eyes widen in surprise and confusion.

“Oh…Yuuri…,” Victor starts with a small cough of his own, a little amused. “That’s not what a sugar relationship is…,” he tries to correct Yuuri. “That’s…something a bit different.” Yuuri’s completely red, now understanding what Victor was saying.

“...O-oh. You’re right…,” he finally says, embarrassed.

Victor continues regardless. “Sugar relationships usually last longer and entail more, but if you want to only meet once…I understand. I can still give you presents before our meeting tonight ends.” It might be his imagination, but Yuuri swears his voice sounds a little hurt, and he immediately tries to fix it.

“I-I just…uh…sorry,” is the only thing he manages to get out of his mouth, pretty sure it does nothing to help the situation.

“Don’t worry about it, Yuuri.”

“I’m just…really new to this, Victor…”

“I know. Don’t worry, I understand if you’re not ready for a longer relationship, especially if it’s one like this. I don’t want to force you into predicaments that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I think…I need time to think about it,” Yuuri looks down at his lap, feeling ashamed.

“I see.” His voice doesn't sound as dejected as Yuuri initially noticed. In fact, now he sounds a bit optimistic. Yuuri ventures to look up from his lap, wondering where the sudden change came from. Victor puts his elbow on the table and sets his chin on the palm of his hand, smiling softly. “I’ll just have to give you the time of your life, then.”

Yuuri is completely speechless. Victor is staring right into his eyes, and it pierces Yuuri to the core; a visible shiver runs down Yuuri’s spine. He immediately breaks eye contact to grab his glass of water and downs it in about five seconds, which isn’t what he intended, but rather what Victor caused him to do.

Victor smirks when he sees Yuuri shiver. “Oh? Are you chilly?” he asks, his voice low. The sudden change in tone leaves Yuuri dumbfounded, in awe. What happened to the Victor that gushed over his dog? “...Am I too much for you, baby boy?” Victor’s lips curl upward, to which Yuuri wants to scream “YES”.

Victor’s taunting ends up making Yuuri less inhibited, though, so he makes eye contact with Victor again before murmuring, “I don’t know enough to answer that yet.”

“Oh? You want to find out?” Victor responds, swept up in their flirty exchanges. There’s an aura around them of overwhelming suggestibility, and it’s the closest thing to flirting that Yuuri’s gotten to so far tonight. He doesn’t want to back down now that he’s been given the opportunity to show Victor his more adventurous side, regardless of how short-lived it may be.

“So. What are you into?” Victor asks upfront, continuing their flirtatious exchange. Yuuri knows he answered that question in his profile, but remembers that Victor couldn’t have seen his answer just yet.

“Whatever you want me to do…I can do it,” Yuuri boldly proclaims, knowing he really is down for anything. He doesn’t have much experience, but he’s sure someone like Victor would be able to treat him well, and introduce him to sides of himself he doesn’t know of yet. If Victor thinks it's worth his time.

“Really? Anything?” Victor replies, somewhat amused by Yuuri’s proclamation.

“U-um…I don’t see why not…,” Yuuri retracts himself slightly, feeling like his statement was a bit too bold for him after all.

“I don’t know, Yuuri…there are some pretty extreme things that I’m into.”

“What, um…what are y-you into?” Yuuri dares to ask.

Victor lets out a low chuckle, and there's a certain glint in his eye that makes Yuuri gulp inaudibly. He isn't sure what Victor’s answer will be, but whatever it is, it seems like something Victor enjoys thoroughly.

“I like to be in control. I like to dominate.”

 _Oh_.

“Well, you’re definitely doing that now.”

Yuuri immediately covers his mouth with both of his hands after realizing what he just said. After having those exchanges, his mental filter gave out. It happens too often with Phichit, but this is Victor Nikiforov he’s with, not his college roommate.

Now he has to deal with the consequences.

“Oh? Do I give off that atmosphere, my dear?”

Hearing that is enough to notify Yuuri that he’s gone too far. Yuuri immediately stands up, his hands nearly slamming down on the table. “I-I…uh…I-I need to, uh, wash my hands,” he stutters, trying to come up with an excuse to leave for a little bit. Victor says he’ll be waiting for him, and waves as Yuuri asks a waiter where the bathroom is. The waiter offers to escort him, and he briskly walks with them across the restaurant. Thankfully, the bathroom is an individual one and no one is currently in it. Yuuri steps inside, too nervous to appreciate the decorations in the room. Taking his phone out his pocket, he immediately calls Phichit, needing support as soon as possible. Yuuri can’t stop mentally replaying everything he said, everything Victor said, the way he called out to him, _‘my dear.’_ The phone rings for a few moments before he hears a slightly concerned voice on the other end of the line.

_“Yuuri! What’s up? What happened to—”_

“PHICHIT, PHICHIT, HELP,” Yuuri frantically shouts into his phone. He leans against the wall of the bathroom, trying to calm his pounding heart.

_“Yuuri? What’s wrong?”_

“Phichit…he’s too hot, I can’t do this,” Yuuri breathes out, running a hand through his hair.

_“What happened?”_

“He told me he likes being in control and I told him he was!” Yuuri nearly yells in his phone, overwhelmed by what had just happened.

_“...Yuuri. You did not.”_

“He asked me what I was into, Phichit! Granted, it was in the profile, but actually saying it out loud is…”

 _“So you told him you were experimental?”_ Phichit recalls what he had written.

“I said I was up for anything. That whatever he wanted, I can do.”

 _“Yuuri,”_ Phichit repeats his name with a tone of dramatic incredulity, shocked that Yuuri had the confidence to even say that.

“Phichit, what do I do!?” Yuuri continues to frantically yell in his phone. Phichit, on the other hand, wasn’t having it. He wants Yuuri to figure out what he wants on his own.

 _“I don’t know Yuuri, what do you want to do?”_ he calmly asks him back.

“I wouldn’t be calling you if I knew the answer! I can’t face him like this, I’m going to lose my mind!”

_“Take a deep breath, Yuuri. You just need to figure out how to balance this out and smooth things over. You’re meeting with him because you want something, aren’t you?”_

“Well, yeah…” Yuuri is getting increasingly impatient at Phichit.

_“So what do you want?”_

“J-just, his money, I guess.”

 _“_ Just _his money?”_

“Yes, _just_ his money! He’s nice, but if it’s what I want, then...t-that’s it! Just money!”

 _“I think you’re lying to yourself, Yuuri,”_ Phichit proposes, and it makes Yuuri freeze in place. He knows Phichit is right, and judging from Phichit’s tone of voice, Phichit knows he’s right, too. He just doesn’t want to face it. He doesn’t want to face the truth. _“I saw how you were acting around him. There’s more than just his money, isn’t there?”_ Phichit’s words are making Yuuri’s head spin, and he’s wildly searching for how to phrase what he’s thinking, his nerves mounting.

_“What do you want to do, Yuuri?”_

“I DON’T KNOW, ALL I DO KNOW IS THAT I WANT HIM TO _DO_ ME! THAT’S WHAT I WANT!” Yuuri yells in near desperation. Both of them go silent after Yuuri says it.

Several moments of silence pass, the only other sound coming from the background music on Phichit’s end, before Yuuri speaks softly. “... please forget I said that.”

Phichit is cackling on the other end. _“This is the thirstiest I’ve ever seen you!”_

“Please. Forget,” Yuuri repeats, completely embarrassed about what he just said. Yuuri lets Phichit finish laughing at his little outburst of lust before he says something again. “His eyes, Phichit…they’re so intense. I feel like I can drown in them.”

 _“So… you’re attracted to him,”_ Phichit clarifies.

“...Yeah…”

_“Well, why don’t you use that to your advantage? I mean, if you truly feel like that, then don’t back down. Be straightforward with it, and I’m sure you’ll be able to reap a lot of rewards later. I think Victor would appreciate if you told him exactly what you want, and exactly how you feel. I’m sure he’s a busy man, so just dancing around your wants and feelings might make him impatient.”_

“You make it sound so easy, Phichit…You know I’m not like you…I can’t confront things head-on like that...”

 _“Hey, hey, Yuuri…,”_ Phichit says in a soft tone. _“Just take some deep breaths and relax. Remember, you have nothing to lose.”_

“I guess…”

 _“Yuuri, he was the one that reached out to you to meet tonight, on such short notice. He’s the one that sent you a chauffeur. He’s the one that gave you $1000 for clothes. He’s the one that made a reservation at Everest, just to meet you. He’s just as interested in you as you are in him. Maybe even more. If he can talk about sexual things casually to you, then he’s definitely looking forward to spending more time with you, and I mean_ the _time. Just let yourself get swept up, okay?”_ Unknown to Phichit, Yuuri was already swept up the moment he first locked eyes with Victor _. “You should go back, though. He’s probably waiting for you to get back.”_

“Oh…y-yeah, I should, shouldn’t I.”

_“Yuuri. Deep breaths. You got this!”_

“Okay, okay. Thank you, Phichit,” Yuuri sighs softly, feeling just a bit calmer after hearing his friend’s voice reassure him. Phichit responds with a simple _“_ mhm _”_ and a “text me later on how everything goes, okay? _”_ , making Yuuri wonder how he got blessed with a friend like Phichit.

Yuuri puts his phone back in his pocket before looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He closes his eyes and breathes in and out, until he feels his heart rate calm down. He opens his eyes and nods, deciding that he’s ready to go back out there. The waiter is standing by the door as he leaves the bathroom, and as Yuuri and the waiter make their way back to the table, the slightly amused expression of the waiter escorting him back is painfully obvious. Part of him wants to ask how much he heard, while the other part never wants to find out. Victor and Yuuri’s eye briefly meet as he sits down across from Victor again. A second later, Yuuri looks away, just barely regaining his confidence from what occurred a few minutes ago.

“Are you feeling better?” Victor asks as Yuuri settles down. Yuuri can feel Victor’s eyes on him again, making him feel self-conscious. The jump in confidence earlier may have done more harm than good.

“Y-yeah…,” Yuuri stutters, trying not to look directly at him. Victor continues to stare, but Yuuri refuses to look back. He’s aware that it might come off as rude, but he just isn’t prepared to face him yet. It goes on for a few minutes before Victor pipes up, continuing the conversation they were having before Yuuri escaped.

“I might like being in control, but that doesn’t mean you should feel inferior to me,” he chuckles. “You are my equal, understand?”

“Your equal…?” The disbelieving tone in Yuuri’s voice is painfully evident. He’s skeptical on what Victor just proposed. If he’s told to, he can write a five-page paper on all the areas Victor is several times more prosperous than him, and then some. “Equal” is just about the exact opposite of what Yuuri and Victor are, in Yuuri’s opinion.

“Of course. In fact, I’m honored that you decided to accept my invitation.” Yuuri can tell Victor is being genuine with his feelings in the tone in his voice, but he doesn’t fully understand why. Rather, even if he did understand, he can’t find it in himself to accept it. “You’re my equal, Yuuri.”

“There’s no way…”

“Yuuri.” Victor leans in close and murmurs into his ear, making goosebumps rise on Yuuri’s arms. “You. Are. My. Equal. There’s no room for debate. It’s a fact, and nothing less.” He leans away with a casual smile despite putting Yuuri’s hair on end.

“But…how? You’re literally…planning on providing for me. You’re rich and capable. And your personality is just as strong. Everything about you just screams that you’re above me,” Yuuri reasons.

“Yuuri, you’ll be providing things as well.”

“Which are...?”

“Companionship. Company,” Victor says, matter-of-factly.

“Companionship and company are nothing compared to—,” Yuuri tries to downplay himself before Victor puts a finger to Yuuri’s lips, immediately silencing the younger man by making his whole body stiffen.

“But that’s what I want from you. Is it too much to ask?” The only thing Yuuri can bring himself to do is shake his head. “Then it’s settled!” Victor concludes with a warm smile, knowing that he won their debate. “Ah. And one more thing. A small request for you.” Yuuri hopes it isn’t too much for him to handle, but nods. “Be yourself.” Victor finally pulls his finger away, and gives Yuuri a more comforting smile. “I want you to enjoy yourself. A sugar relationship isn’t just about money and sex. In fact, it doesn’t have to be about sex at all. It’s about friendship, networking, advising, and mentorship. I’ll be here to help you with decisions you deem too overwhelming. Having more life experience, I would like to take care of some of your burdens, if you let me. Don’t think about money—that’s for me to handle.”

Yuuri nods. Victor’s ground rules for their relationship are easy to follow; be yourself, and don’t worry about the money. Yuuri feels a little more at ease. “I-if…if you say so…”

Victor pushes his open menu across the table, the text facing towards Yuuri to read.  “Whatever you want on the menu, Yuuri.” After Victor’s words, the numbers on the page no longer seem so intimidating. _Be yourself. Don’t worry._

“Um…then…can I get the same thing you’re ordering?” Yuuri asks, not even bothering to ask what Victor is planning to order.

“Of course! Do you have any allergies or foods you don’t like?”

“No, not really…”

“Then, I’ll get this!” Victor decides as he proceeds to point at the most expensive thing on the menu. Yuuri’s eyes follow, and his eyes skim over it. A three course dinner, full of terminology Yuuri can’t understand. After all, Yuuri doesn’t know French, which seems to be the restaurant’s specialty.

“O-on second thought, Victor, can I get something else? I kind of…well…ate dinner already back at my apartment...I didn’t know I would be going out again...”

“Don’t worry about it! They serve small portions here, so three courses isn’t as much as it sounds.”

Yuuri nods, and lets Victor take control of what they were going to order. He doesn’t need to ask Victor to know that he has more experience in fine dining than Yuuri could ever dream of. If he says the portions are manageable, he’ll believe him. Even if they’re not, Yuuri is honestly still feeling nervous enough to tackle a three course meal that could cover half of his rent. Their waitress comes over and Victor orders for them, Yuuri fidgeting the whole time. _This is really happening…_

As the waitress leaves, Victor looks at him again. "So. Your interests."

"Huh?"

"How far you're willing to go."

"O-oh."

"If things get out of hand, I need to know when to stop. That is, if you're thinking of taking things to that level."

"U-um...I'm still thinking about it..."

"That's fine. But just in case, you should choose a safeword. Anything you like.”

Yuuri tries to think of something, something that he wouldn't say in bed no matter what kind of situation they were in. _Maybe something regarding dance...? Music...?_ There's the soft crescendo of music in the background, and they both realize that someone is performing at the grand piano in the corner of the room.

"Hm...Bach?" Victor murmurs, just loud enough for Yuuri to overhear, but before he can question Victor's words another waiter is standing in front of them, filling up their glasses of water again. "Would you happen to know what piece this is?" Victor casually asks the waiter. Yuuri, in turn, is confused. How would the waiter know if—

"Ah, I saw the score as I walked here. If I remember correctly it was named 'Adagio'."

Victor thanks the waiter, and the waiter goes back to work.

"...How about adagio?”

Yuuri’s suggestion makes Victor tilt his head in apprehension, and Yuuri immediately feels obligated to explain.

“W-well, in music, adagio usually indicates a slower tempo...a slower timing...so, in the context of, um...doing certain things...if I were to say adagio, it’d be like telling you that things were too fast, or going too far too quick...if that makes any sense…” By now, Yuuri feels like a fool for having offered such a lukewarm explanation as his reason for choosing adagio for a safeword. Things may turn out better if he just says his honest opinion—that once the waiter suggested it, Yuuri couldn’t think of anything better.

“That sounds like a good suggestion,” Victor readily responds, putting Yuuri’s doubts to rest in a matter of seconds. “I know a bit about music terminology, so adagio is a very fitting term. I can’t think of an intimate situation where it would be used deliberately, either.”

 _Intimate_...Yuuri knows exactly what he means by that, but it still makes his heart race at the thought. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to think about it much, because the food starts coming.

Victor isn’t wrong. The portions are of a decent size, but nowhere as big as what Yuuri usually labels as “American portions”. Many of the items are foods that Yuuri’s never seen before, foods he never knew existed, and Victor does him the favor of explaining what they are, one at a time, as they come in. Many of the dishes’ names are French, which is a new experience for Yuuri. He could swear Victor only ordered a three course meal for each of them, but it turns out the waiters and chefs are generous with other sides and appetizers as well. At one point, they bring in a platter filled with different cheeses, each piece different from the next, some cradled in small spoons while others are carefully arranged on the plate. Embarrassingly enough, Yuuri loses all notions of time and the presence of Victor with the appearance of food, a sufficient distraction from the atmosphere between them.

“So, how far have you gone?”

Yuuri nearly chokes on his food. So much for a distraction.

“Y-you mean...um…,” he wipes his mouth with the napkin in his lap before setting it back down.

“Sexually, yes. Have you ever had sex, Yuuri?” Victor asks it so casually that Yuuri has to stop whatever he’s doing just to focus on the question. He sets down his fork and knife, absentmindedly glancing around the table, the tables surrounding them, anywhere but those eyes.

“W-well...I’ve done a few things here and there, but...I haven’t actually...gotten to _that_ point…”

“I see...and I’m the first person you’ve met under these kinds of conditions, correct?”  
  
“These conditions…?”

“As a sugar baby.”

“O-oh.” Yuuri’s ears turn red in embarrassment. “Yes.”

“You wouldn’t mind telling me how far you’ve gone, then, right?”

Yuuri can’t just easily answer that with a yes or no. Simply put, Victor wants Yuuri to know about everything that Yuuri’s done, physically, so he knows just how far he can go with Yuuri now. As long as Yuuri’s willing. He doesn’t want to pressure or force Yuuri into things he hasn’t done yet, especially if he isn’t ready for it. And with Victor, Yuuri doesn’t care. That impulsive part of him is ready to be taken, ravished at any second regardless of how far he’s gone beforehand. Luckily for him, the calmer, more rational part of him is still active.

He’s just waiting for it to take control. 

“Hm...let me rephrase that,” Victor proposes after noticing the moment of silence from Yuuri. “Have you ever been in a relationship of some sort?”

Fortunately for Yuuri, that’s a question he doesn’t find difficult to answer. “Um...about a year ago...but that ended a few months ago. That’s it. We didn’t...do much physically either.”

“What _did_ you do?”

He can feel his face getting warmer again, and he eats more of his food in silence. What did Victor call this dish? It’s something French that Yuuri has never heard of…magret of duck? All he knows is that it’s the only thing keeping him grounded and sane. The overwhelming part of this situation isn’t so much the memories of what he did, but rather the act of telling Victor, who he barely knows, about it. However, Yuuri recognizes that Victor genuinely just wants to know. He isn’t going to judge him for it.

“Just...sometimes we would kiss...and, um…touch each other…w-we would give each other… hand—,” Yuuri clears his throat, unable to finish that particular word. “When we were feeling it…we would…s-suck…And, um…! There was this…one time where, um, he…w-well, I was…bent over...o-on the bed, and he...put, um…i-it...in between my thighs.” Yuuri can barely speak by the end of it, his voice a weak whisper. He can’t finish any of the explicit words detailing the sexual acts he’s done, or even finish a sentence properly. In the first place, there isn’t a reason for him to become so descriptive, but with Victor watching him so intently, he finds that his mental filter is rapidly deteriorating, resulting in the lewd imagery at the end that only makes the restaurant feel ten times hotter to him. Yuuri’s heart is pounding to the point that he can feel his pulse in his ears. _Too much information_ , he tells himself, but he can’t take it back now.

“Ah…,” Victor takes another sip of his drink and smiles at Yuuri, completely unfazed. “So no penetration?”

The question is so sudden that Yuuri answers it as briskly and immediately as possible. “N-no,” he squeaks out, in a pitch about an octave higher than he wants. His ears are burning by now, and he wishes he had an excuse to escape to the bathroom again.

“So…,” Victor begins before taking a moment to continue eating his own food. Yuuri glances over at his plate. It’s a fairly small platter of roasted fish wrapped in potato and other spices. Only a few minutes have passed since the food was given to them, so Yuuri can still see small trails of steam emerging from the places Victor’s fork delve into the fish, picking up some of the potato along the way, Victor gently blowing on it for a few seconds before he leans forward and envelopes the tip of the fork with his smooth, pink lips, his tongue sliding along the underside of the fork briefly to catch a piece of potato about to fall, those beautiful blue eyes shifting over to Yuuri, staring, sparkling—

Noticing.

“Is something wrong, Yuuri?”

“A-ah...um...no..,” he mumbles, feeling trapped. He can’t look away, not after having so obviously been watching Victor eat and nearly lusting over his lips. The small, knowing smile from Victor is enough to make Yuuri feel another set of chills up his spine.

“As I was saying…,” Victor continues after swallowing his food, “in the event that I wanted to be intimate with you, would you like to do that with me?”

_I would let you take me right now if you wanted to._

Yuuri immediately silences his thoughts and buries them in the back of his mind, not wanting to think about how quickly he thought of that. He needs to stop. He’s letting his mind get out of control much too quickly. Not only that, he’s being so obvious that he’s confident Victor can tell just how overwhelmed he is. For now, he just needs to come up with an answer to Victor’s question, so he can stop looking at him so intensely.

“I-I…,” Yuuri says, then clears his throat, then takes a sip of water, then clears his throat again, then fumbles with his tie, loosening it slightly. “I-if you wanted to…” He can’t lie to those eyes. “I wouldn’t really...m-mind…” The silence between them is thick, too thick for Yuuri to feel comfortable, so he starts eating again. At this point, he’s almost done with all his food, most of which he ate out of sheer anxiety.

“Really? Then...I’ll keep that in mind, Yuuri,” Victor finally responds after a few moments, and goes back to eating. The way he says his name this time has a slightly different tone to it, and Yuuri doesn’t want to think about how that makes him feel.

They finish up their appetizers and main courses in relative silence, Yuuri obsessing over his own actions the whole time. He’s painfully aware that he isn’t fitting into the “sugar baby” role enough. He’s used to looking at prices, used to thinking about how to budget his money, used to having to sacrifice something so he can afford something he needs. This much freedom is too much for him to handle. Having someone who can provide so much for him literally at his fingertips is such a foreign concept that Yuuri would be fooled if someone told him he was just dreaming, that Sweet Meet wasn’t even a real app. But at the same time, Yuuri doesn’t want to let go of this new experience. Regardless of how easily Victor makes Yuuri’s legs turn to jelly and his tongue to rock, Yuuri is enjoying the food and Victor’s company. For once, he doesn’t have to think about what going out to eat will personally cost him, how many hours he’ll have to work to make up for it. He doesn’t have to feel the regret that creeps up on him whenever he chooses to buy something for himself as a reward, knowing the money can be spent elsewhere. He doesn’t have to add up numbers. He doesn’t have to even think about the numbers. Numbers don’t exist. Right now, it’s just Yuuri, Victor, Everest, and those eyes.

It’s selfish, after Yuuri made a bold assumption that they were only meeting once, but Yuuri wishes he had the courage to ask Victor when they’ll meet again.

“Yuuri?”

“Ah, yes?” Yuuri looks at Victor, realizing that he spaced out for a few seconds. Victor is holding out a smaller menu to him.

“Do you want dessert?”

_Sure. Do they have Victor Nikiforov?_

Yuuri has never wished he could mute his inner thoughts as much as he does now.

“Can I…?” Yuuri murmurs, ignoring his thoughts in the meantime as he accepts the menu. Victor nods, saying he can get whatever he wants. He’s reminded of the prices once again as he looks at the menu, but tries his best not to dwell on them too much. To tell the truth, he does have a sweet tooth he wants to satisfy. “Um...how about cheesecake?”

“If that’s what you want, then go ahead, Yuuri,” Victor responds, motioning to the waiter approaching their table. Albeit a bit nervous, Yuuri manages to call the waiter over and place his order without stuttering or losing his train of thought. In a matter of minutes, the water comes back with the cheesecake, and Yuuri immediately digs in. It’s smooth, rich, just the right temperature, and the glaze on top is warm but not too hot, and Yuuri doesn’t notice that he makes a rather unusual sound until he sees Victor looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Is there...something wrong?”

“You just moaned, Yuuri.”

In a matter of seconds, Yuuri’s face is completely flushed. “O-oh my god, I’m so sorry. W-was it...loud?”

“Not very,” Victor chuckles a bit. “And there’s no need to apologize. It was a nice sound.”

Yuuri wishes he could respond, but Victor leaves him breathless yet again.

“Would you mind sharing some?” Victor asks, leaning towards Yuuri with a small smile. He leaves Yuuri without much choice, being that obvious, so Yuuri pushes his embarrassment as far back as possible as he gets a piece of the cheesecake with his fork and brings it to Victor’s lips, reminding himself not to stare this time. Victor takes a bite off the fork, the creamy texture of the cake perking him up. He swallows, and lets out a satisfied sigh. “Vkusno,” he grins.

Yuuri forgets what he reminded himself not to do. Watching Victor’s mouth envelope the fork like that, his—

“Yuuri, are you going to have another bite? If not, can you feed me more?” he cheekily asks, and Yuuri gives him a slight nod. Yuuri brings the fork back down to the cake, and divides the cake once more. Entranced by Victor’s lips, Yuuri doesn’t even realize that he feeds Victor the rest of the slice. Victor’s velvety voice finally snaps Yuuri out of his reverie.

“It was really delicious, Yuuri! Are you sure it was fine for me to have most of it?”

“U-uh…” Yuuri can’t form words again to give his answer, so he simply nods once more, signaling that it was okay. Victor flags their waiter and asks for the check, and after a few minutes pass, he returns with a small checkbook. Yuuri almost reaches for it on instinct, feeling some guilt rise to his chest, but he remembers Victor’s words. Yuuri doesn’t have to worry. He’ll handle it.

And he does. Victor reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a black leather wallet, pristine and shiny. Nimble fingers unfold the wallet and pull out a dark blue credit card, placing it inside the checkbook. Yuuri is quietly watching—he briefly catches the waiter approaching their table from a few feet away out of the corner of his eye—until he dares to look up, and finds Victor’s eyes on him again. He feels driven to say something as the waiter walks away, anything at all, and ponders for a few moments while the waiter accepts the checkbook from Victor.

“...Thank you. The food was really good, and um...you’re really nice, too.”

Victor looks over at Yuuri, and the way he smiles makes Yuuri feel warmth spread in his chest.

The atmosphere between them is a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, until the waiter comes back. He hands the book to Victor once more, before he wishes them a nice night. Victor removes his card and places it back into his wallet, then writes in a generous tip on top of the large bill, and signs his name on the bottom. Once he catches Yuuri watching, he smiles wryly. “I tend to give out larger tips to people who serve me with a warm smile.” He closes the book, and gets up, straightening his clothes. Yuuri follows, making sure his phone is in the pocket of his pants.

“Shall we go?” Victor asks. Yuuri murmurs a small yes, not knowing if leaving meant that their date ended. 

They’re led back down to the lobby. It’s late at night, and the lobby seems quieter than it was earlier. “One moment,” Victor holds up his pointer finger to motion Yuuri for him to wait. Victor pulls his phone out of his pocket, and taps the screen a few times, then brings the phone up to his ear. “Yeah, it’s me. Yes, right where you dropped Yuuri off earlier. Yes. Yes. Thank you.” Victor puts his phone away.

“It’ll just be a three minute wait, is that okay?” Victor looks back to Yuuri. Yuuri feels his heart sink. At once, the positive atmosphere between them seems broken, cut in half. In Yuuri’s opinion, he thought things were getting better—but that’s only Yuuri’s opinion, not Victor’s. Victor never directly said he was planning to go with Yuuri in the car…and if he is, he’s probably just going to drop him off back home. Maybe Yuuri really isn’t cut out for this, regardless of how much he tried. Maybe he’s failed to charm Victor, despite thinking that they made at least some progress during dinner.

Given how awkward and insecure he acted through most of their meeting, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He feels anxious as he hears and sees a familiar vehicle approach the curbside. In a few moments, he recognizes it as the car and chauffeur that took him and Phichit to the boutique before coming to Everest. Victor begins moving ahead of him, but Yuuri’s feet are glued to the ground, not sure whether he’s welcome or allowed to follow after Victor. They hadn’t made plans beyond dinner, and if Victor wants to he can tell Yuuri to take the train back by himself, or call Phichit to come back for him. The possibility makes his chest hurt with shame, because he’s well aware it could happen.

“Yuuri?”

“...Sorry,” Yuuri responds after a few moments. He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t want to know.

“Are you coming?”

_...Huh?_

Yuuri stares in awe as Victor opens the door to the backseat, waiting for Yuuri to go in first. Does this mean Victor is enjoying his time with Yuuri, just like Yuuri secretly is? Or does he just feel bad and want to drive him home at the very least? Yuuri has too many questions to ask, but he needs to provide an answer to Victor right now, so he clears his throat and nods slightly before climbing into the backseat and putting on his seatbelt. He doesn’t know how to ask Victor what his intentions are, either. He’s stuck. All he can do is nervously glance around as the chauffeur starts up the car again and heads onto the street.

“Yuuri,” Victor pipes up.

“Yes?”

“You said earlier that you downloaded the app because you were financially troubled. May I ask what your situation is?”

Yuuri remembers the vague answer he gave Victor earlier at the restaurant and sighs softly, trying to find a good way to phrase things. “Well…University of Chicago is…expensive. I didn’t want to burden my family about tuition…but on top of tuition, I need to pay for my own dance equipment, like the outfits we use during performances, half of rent, half of the groceries…” Yuuri feels a lump form in his throat. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s in a very hard situation right now. Avoiding the subject only does more harm. “I just…don’t want to be a burden. A lot of businesses similar to my family’s back home have gone under, and we’re never sure when ours will go down as well. My family…they need the money…and I was the one that wanted to study abroad, anyhow…” Yuuri feels his chest tighten. He knows he needs to broaden his horizons if he wants to make it while doing what he loves: dance. Staying in Japan wouldn’t have been the best. He needs to meet more people, learn from them, make new connections. But in the end, that decision…he regrets it sometimes. “I’ve gone through many different jobs—at one point, I had three different jobs, but in the end, none of them paid me enough to take care of all the bills. Phichit’s helped me pay for rent and other things numerous times already, and I don’t want to be a burden to him either. It’s not like he comes from a rich family, either. We’re just…trying to get by at this point,” Yuuri grimaces, hating how that sounds. Helpless. “I…I downloaded the app earlier today because I had just quit my job as a waiter. Hours there were long and harsh, and in the end, I was still short on rent. It’s due in a couple of days, and I thought that maybe…just maybe…I could figure out a way to make it happen. Pay rent on time, that is…”

Victor is silent throughout Yuuri’s story, not wanting to interrupt his explanation. A few minutes pass, and Victor leans in across the seat to whisper into Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri doesn’t know what he’s going to say. Maybe he’ll say he feels sorry for Yuuri. Maybe he’ll ask for his address so he can drop Yuuri off at his apartment. Maybe he’ll ask how much he needs for rent. All Yuuri knows is that he’s not ready for their night together to end.

“Yuuri....can I steal you for the night?”

For a few moments, Yuuri forgets how to breathe. He doesn’t need to ask Victor what he means by that—the tone of his voice says more than words ever could. Yuuri doesn’t know what just happened, what triggered this change in Victor, but he bites his bottom lip and nods. There’s no way he’s going to let this opportunity go.

“Good. I’ve already reserved a hotel room.” Victor pulls back and sits in his seat again, and places his hand on top of Yuuri’s, making him flinch in surprise. He starts to rub circles with his index finger on the top of Yuuri’s hand, and Yuuri can’t help thinking about this new revelation. _He reserved a room already? Was he planning this since the beginning? He wanted to go this far with me from the start? With_ me _?_

Victor’s touch doesn’t calm Yuuri at first. He might be gradually getting used to his touch at the small of his back, but Victor’s hand on top of Yuuri’s is something else completely. However, as minutes pass, Yuuri staring out the window and trying not to forget how to breathe, the sensation of Victor’s finger actually begins to soothe his nerves, even if only just a bit. They don’t speak to each other, but Yuuri can tell that Victor is giving him time to think and reflect, which he realizes that he desperately needs. A lot happened in the last few hours, and he needs to tread lightly from here on out, especially after accepting Victor’s invitation to stay the night.

He’s so engrossed in his thoughts that he forgets where exactly they’re going. Once the car pulls up to a building, Yuuri stares in awe.

“V-victor…”

“Yes?” 

“Do you...live here?”

Victor blinks in apprehension, then laughs a bit. “This is a bit too big to be my house, Yuuri. It’s just me and Makkachin, remember?” 

“Oh…,” Yuuri feels hot with embarrassment for assuming something like that. At this point, Yuuri would believe him if he’d said yes, but he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so quickly. “So, this is…”

“A hotel. Have you heard of Waldorf Astoria?”

 _Oh. That’s right. A hotel._  

“N-no...it sounds like a fitting name, though,” Yuuri quietly admits as they step out of the car. He’s left staring at the building in front of them, which has at least five floors and is structured in a U-shape. It’s past 9:30 by now, and the entrance to the lobby is relatively quiet. A row of bushes align the walls, and under them are small florescent lights that shine on it. 

Yuuri can hear Victor talking to the chauffeur behind him, and hears tires on cobblestone a few moments later as the car pulls away, leaving them with each other once again. Yuuri stiffens slightly when he feels Victor’s hand—not on his back, like before, but this time on his waist, and Victor moves to stand to his side. It’s a slight change, but one that clearly insinuates what Yuuri agreed to. Victor’s hand is both gentle but firm, and Yuuri isn’t sure whether he wants Victor to hold him tighter or let him go because of it. 

“Let’s head inside,” Victor suggests, and Yuuri nods silently before walking into the lobby with him.

If he isn’t so nervous, he would pay more attention to the elegant chandelier and sculptures and the marble floors and walls around them, but instead Yuuri can only really handle looking at his feet, Victor’s hand, or the ground. They stand at the receptionist’s desk for a few moments before Victor is given a couple of cards to their room, and then he’s leading them to the elevators.

“If our room number indicates the floor...I think we’re on the sixth floor,” says Victor to no one in particular, although most likely intending for Yuuri to hear. Once they reach the elevators, he confirms his suspicions by checking the sign between the two elevators, and presses the button to go up. “How are you feeling, Yuuri?”

Victor hasn’t paid much attention to Yuuri since they went into the hotel, so to suddenly have all of Victor’s attention doesn’t give him much time to come up with a proper answer. “I think..um...yeah. I’m fine. Sorry.”  
  
“No need to apologize,” Victor responds, a bit confused at Yuuri’s answer. Thankfully for Yuuri, he doesn’t have to explain himself once the moment between them is interrupted by the elevator to their left. “Can you press the button for the sixth floor?”

“Yeah…,” Yuuri murmurs, entering first and looking to the right of the door once he’s inside. The numbers are ordered from bottom to top, and Yuuri finds the correct button a few moments later. Victor follows him in, and they both watch as the elevator doors gradually slide closed. A few seconds later, the familiar feeling of the elevator ascending begins, only aggravating the butterflies in Yuuri’s stomach.

Silence envelopes them. 

Yuuri’s never been good at small talk. Actually, he’s never liked it in the first place. But right now, he wishes he had the fundamental skills to do it. Even at Everest, with Victor’s hand on Yuuri’s chin and their arms touching, Yuuri hadn’t felt as isolated with Victor as he does now.

“Yuuri, can I ask you something?”  
  
Victor’s voice penetrates the air, and Yuuri is forced to focus on him. “Sure...what is it?”

“I’ve been wondering ever since you left to use the bathroom at Everest…,” begins Victor, and Yuuri instinctively presses his back to the wall of the elevator as Victor takes a step towards him. _Close. Too close. He’s too close._ Yuuri keeps repeating those words in his head, ignoring the fact that Victor is, in fact, a couple of feet away from him. However, the stifling air of the elevator makes Victor feel so much closer. 

“Y-yes…?”

“Were you crying?”

It’s not what Yuuri is expecting to hear at all. His eyes widen a bit, but in confusion. “Crying…? What would make you think that...?”

“Well…it may simply be my imagination, but I noticed that your eyes were a bit red when you came back from the bathroom.” Victor takes another step towards Yuuri, extends a hand onto the railing behind Yuuri, and Yuuri realizes that he’s virtually backed himself into a corner.

“W-were they? I wasn’t crying, though…,” Yuuri confesses, then remembers that he basically broke down on his way home several hours earlier after quitting his job. Although he hoped it wasn’t noticeable enough, it was apparent enough that Victor eventually noticed. “I just...was feeling a bit overwhelmed, but I didn’t cry while I was in the bathroom…”

Victor’s other hand goes onto the railing as well, and Yuuri can feel his breath shortening slightly. They’re less than a foot away from each other now. “That’s good to hear. I was beginning to think that I’d done something wrong.”

“N-no way…!” Yuuri holds his hands up to his chest and shakes his head, vehemently denying Victor’s assumptions. He definitely doesn’t want Victor to think that he’s too overwhelmed by this situation to go on. “You did everything right...I just...I was having a stressful day, so that probably reflected in my face...but you...” The next words linger on Yuuri’s tongue, and stay there. _You’re perfect._

“I think you’re a destructive force of your own, Yuuri. Don’t you see it?”

Victor’s next actions leave Yuuri breathless, motionless, speechless. He isn’t expecting it, he’s planning to respond to Victor again, but his voice dies in his throat when he feels Victor’s thumb on his cheekbone, softly gliding over the skin under his eye. His other hand comes up to do the same with his other cheek, and then both of his hands cup either side of Yuuri’s face. Yuuri feels the world closing in on him as he realizes Victor’s face is only a few inches away from his own. He can feel Victor’s breath, he’s drowning in those eyes, the elevator is spinning, and the only thing he can think about is how soft and smooth Victor’s lips look, and how good they would feel on his skin. Then Victor moves his left hand, his index finger reaching out to softly brush over Yuuri’s lashes. His touch is as light as a feather, yet it makes Yuuri’s heart pound. Then their gazes meet, and Yuuri immediately sees the desire in those orbs of blue, several times more intense than he’d ever seen them before, and words don’t need to be exchanged between them for Yuuri to understand what Victor is saying, what his eyes are saying, what his body is saying. What his body wants. He wants Yuuri.

That thought sends a chill up Yuuri’s spine. 

As the ding of the elevator notifies them that they’ve arrived on the sixth floor, Yuuri realizes that that’s most likely the only thing keeping Victor from beginning to ravish him right then and there. Yuuri isn’t sure whether he’s relieved or disappointed because of it. He’ll figure that out later.

“This way,” Victor calmly murmurs as they leave the elevator, but Yuuri can feel the slightly urgent hold on his waist, and he knows that he isn’t the only one getting impatient. After a moment of wandering down a hall, they find the correct room number, and Victor touches the card to the lock. The light on the lock switches from red to green, and a small click within the door lets them know that the room is unlocked. Once Victor turns the knob and opens the door, he finally lets go of Yuuri’s waist, motioning for him to walk in first.

The room is dark as Yuuri ventures inside. There’s a small corridor that leads into what he presumes is the living room. Fortunately, there’s some light shining in from outside the window, and Yuuri is able to make his way in and flip a switch, illuminating the room.

“You can go ahead and get comfortable,” murmurs Victor, before walking past Yuuri and checking out the hotel room. “Hm...it’s a very snug room. I like it. How about you, Yuuri?” 

There isn’t much Yuuri can say against it, considering the fact that he isn’t the one paying for it. Regardless of that, though, he does genuinely like the layout. The color scheme is largely monochromatic, but there’s a sense of space around them, everything in its proper place. After living in an apartment with his roommate for over a year, Yuuri is hardly used to seeing such a clean room. As he wanders over to the bedroom, his heart begins to beat a bit faster when he sees the queen sized bed, not even able to imagine what would be happening there soon. Instead, he focuses on other things—the dresser in front of the bed, the flat screen television, the chair and desk on one side of the wall, the large floor-to-ceiling window that opens up to a view of the lake.

“It’s nice...I like it, too,” answers Yuuri after a few moments, and he glances at Victor for a moment, barely registering the fact that they’re in a hotel room together. Just the two of them. He pushes down the nerves that surface at the thought.

 _Get comfortable..._ Yuuri remembers Victor’s words, and takes a deep breath. They’re not going to get anywhere if Yuuri continues to be dangerously on guard. It’s no longer a question of whether or not Yuuri wants to take things further with Victor, because he already knows the answer to that. Now, the issue lies in actually carrying it out. Yuuri isn’t completely confident he’ll be able to make it worth Victor’s time, but he wants to at least try. As for Victor making it worth Yuuri’s time, Yuuri already saw the answer when they were in the elevator: Victor is capable of doing that and more.

Yuuri sheds off his suit jacket and gently folds it over one of the chairs. He loosens his tie as well and places it on top of his jacket before walking over to the windows. The view from the hotel is something Yuuri has never seen before. They’re right by the beach, so he can see all of Lake Michigan shimmering underneath the moonlight. Although winters in Chicago are long, it isn't cold enough in late March for the water near the shoreline to freeze over. With the main lights still off, the whole room is illuminated by the moon, a faint blue enveloping both him and Victor.

“Yuuri,” Victor calls out as he undresses himself in a similar fashion, bringing Yuuri back into reality.

As Yuuri turns around, his eyes can't help raking over Victor's torso once again as Victor calmly unbuttons his vest and slips that off as well, followed by his own tie. Yuuri's mind is wandering. He notices how the blue of Victor’s tie suits him so well, how the belt of his pants snugly hugs his hips, how well-built Victor's body looks even with his dress shirt still on, how defined yet smooth his neck is, how the moonlight makes his skin shine like porcelain, how his hair is nearly glowing, how untouchable the man in front of him seems, how—

“Before I forget, how much do you need? You mentioned that you need money for rent later this week.”

Yuuri is rudely pulled out of his stupor, and he has to think for a moment before giving his answer. “$200…,” Yuuri quietly states, feeling selfish once again. The guilt growing inside him makes him avert his gaze, looking at the chair with Victor's jacket, vest, and tie instead of directly at Victor. The sooner Victor gives him what he needs, the faster Yuuri can be relieved and not focus on the financial aspect of their meeting as much. So he figures that, as Victor walks over to him, that’s exactly what Victor is going to do. Yuuri is eager to get the money, partially because that means he’ll have his rent money, but mostly because he won't have to talk about it anymore.

Instead, Victor reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, opening it and pulling out five crisp $100 bills.

“V-Victor?! I don't need this much…!” He insists, immediately separating the three extra bills from the two he actually needed and trying to give them back to Victor. “I-it’s just $200!”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri. I want to give you more,” Victor replies, but it’s not enough to convince Yuuri, who is still holding out the bills to Victor, getting slightly closer.

“I don’t need this much...all I need to do is pay off my rent, so any more than that isn’t necessary, really. I-I appreciate it, Victor, but I think your money would be better spent on—”

“Yuuri,” Victor says in a stern tone, to which Yuuri heels, stopping his insisting. “Indulge in the gifts I give you.” The commanding tone that Victor uses makes Yuuri gulp before nodding, reluctantly taking the $500 and putting it in the pocket of his pants. He feels absolutely guilty, but if that's what Victor wants him to do, then he’ll listen. “I’ll be right back, okay?” Victor says before heading to the bathroom, leaving Yuuri to stare out the window again.

_Is this really happening?_

The water, though still in the winter, looks so peaceful and still. Yuuri presses his hands against the window, his focus on the outside, the view. He’s feeling so many things at once. The bills in his pocket feel heavy. He wants something else to focus on, something to distract him, something to become engrossed in. Right now, it’s the feeling of the glass against his skin, which is cooler considering the temperature outside.

A slightly larger hand covers his, startling Yuuri a bit.

“You're so beautiful in the moonlight,” Victor says from behind him against his neck, tickling Yuuri with his hot breath. The sensation makes Yuuri inhale sharply, not expecting this at all. Victor brings his right hand over Yuuri’s other hand, trapping Yuuri between the window and himself. Then he starts to kiss the back of Yuuri’s neck, sending shivers down Yuuri’s spine.

Victor’s hands slide down Yuuri’s body, from Yuuri’s hands to his arms, his shoulders and down his sides, until they find Yuuri’s hips. Victor grasps them firmly before pressing his hips against Yuuri’s ass, earning a soft gasp from Yuuri. He can feel Victor’s semi-hard cock pressing against him, and it nearly drives him crazy. He can barely process the fact that he’s the one making Victor this excited.

“We don't have to go all the way tonight…but if you want to, I made sure to bring condoms and lube…,” Victor whispers hotly into his ear, grinding lightly against Yuuri. Yuuri bites his bottom lip as Victor continues to kiss the back of his neck. They’re only getting started, yet Yuuri is already beginning to feel overwhelmed. “Just let yourself get swept up in the pleasure, Yuuri…” The grip on his hips tightens slightly, and Yuuri bites his lip harder. “Let it course through your body, down to your toes, and release it…” The sensation of Victor’s cock against him makes Yuuri’s head spin. “You don’t have to think too hard about it. If you don’t enjoy this, then there’s no point in my being here, is there?” 

Yuuri wants him so bad. There’s no way he doesn’t. Victor is rich and successful. He can take care of Yuuri. He’s handsome and alluring. He’s beautiful, and his body…if he looks that handsome with his clothes on...what will he look like with all of it off? 

The lust Yuuri has for this man is immeasurable.

Any hesitation left in Yuuri leaves him. He starts to grind back against Victor’s cock while beginning to get hard as well. Soon they’re moving in sync, both of them pushing into each other at the same rhythm, and Yuuri’s uneven breathing somehow fits into that rhythm. Victor reaches around Yuuri, slowly pulling out the dress shirt that’s tucked into his pants, then shifting his hand upwards to gradually unbutton it from the top down. Victor’s hands trace along Yuuri’s bare chest, tweaking his nipples. Yuuri lets out a breathy moan, and it reminds them both of the scene Yuuri made at the restaurant, only fueling Victor’s desire to touch him even more. Then Victor pinches them hard, earning a surprised yelp from Yuuri. By now, Yuuri is just as hard as Victor.

“What is it that you want? Tell me, Yuuri. I need to hear you say it before I continue to do anything else.”

There’s a moment of breathy silence, both of them caught up in their own arousal. Then...

“Touch me…please…” Yuuri’s voice sounds foreign to himself, but he’s not holding back anymore. This is what he truly wants.

“Good boy…now listen…if there’s anything you need to remember while being my sugar baby…,” Victor starts, but then deems that they're a bit overdressed for what’s about to happen. He turns Yuuri around to face him, and seeing Yuuri’s flushed expression only heightens the arousal building between them. He takes off Yuuri’s shirt, shedding it on the floor. He then starts to undo Yuuri’s pants and pulls them off in a matter of seconds, discarding them on the floor alongside the shirt. The only thing Yuuri is left in are his boxer briefs, and Victor continues with what he was saying, staring deep into Yuuri’s eyes as his hands run down Yuuri’s sides. Yuuri can clearly see the raw lust in Victor’s expression now, and there’s no room for doubt. "Baby boy, you can have whatever you want. Just tell me, and I'll give you the world." Yuuri is completely speechless. Was it going to be this easy? To get money from someone so handsome, so alluring, so rich? Just by asking? Victor presses on. "I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me."  
  
"...Will you help me pay my college tuition?" Yuuri finally speaks, deciding to be straightforward, remembering why he signed up for this in the first place.  
  
"If that'll make you happy, then so be it. Now…lay on the bed."


	3. Victor Nikiforov

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Since it takes us a while to update, our notes will be dated with when we typed them up. We’ll also say who said what!)
> 
> 4/25: Hey guys, it’s Rui here. I…I was scrolling on Twitter tonight and one of my favorite artists tweeted that one of their favorite sugar daddy AU fics updated. And that chapter 2 was 15,000 words. You know that “oh jeez that’s me” meme...Yeah that was basically my reaction. It was such a surreal experience honestly. I couldn't stop shaking with excitement. Like…seeing artists you really respect and look up to reading your story…just…jeez, haha. I'm very happy. 
> 
> 5/2: Actually, a LOT of stuff has happened since our last update, and we’re just so surprised that I constantly ask Rui for reassurance that we’re not dreaming. We were featured on a fic rec page on tumblr, we got our first fanart drawn (which we NEVER thought would happen but were secretly wishing for it), and we’ve gotten an even bigger following than the first chapter. Rui and I gush about every new comment to the point of just needing to lie down for a while to let it all soak in. You guys are awesome and give us a ton of motivation, and because of that, the next few chapters may or may not be uploaded a bit ahead of our usual pace... -Alexia
> 
> 5/3: https://twitter.com/figurespacing/status/859440333989462017 Here’s the link to the art, if you want to check it out! I literally logged onto Twitter yesterday morning and it was the first thing I saw on my feed, it felt like a dream. Feel free to follow me at @katsudongs! I post a lot about the behind the scenes when writing Sugar High, and it's always a fun time. - Rui
> 
> 5/3: https://twitter.com/figurespacing/status/859700779912806400 WOKE UP TO THIS AND I’M DYING A LOT. ALSO WE HIT 10K HITS TONIGHT AND I’M DYING. - Rui
> 
> And another shoutout to http://minty-mayhem.tumblr.com/ for being our beta again this chapter! Also, if anyone wants to let us know about anything (feedback, art, etc.) on other forms of social media, feel free to use #yoisugarhigh so we can easily see it! Please enjoy chapter 3!

_His hands._

_They run over Yuuri’s skin, smooth and agonizingly slow. Yuuri closed his eyes a long time ago, and all he can feel are those slender fingers on his chest, his stomach, his hips, his thighs…_

_“V-vi…,” Yuuri’s voice dies in his throat, swallowed up by another moan. He grips the bed sheets, the only thing keeping him grounded while his head spins. With every motion, Yuuri’s trembling, every nerve on edge. He can’t escape from the overwhelming pleasure consuming him._

_Cold air hits him, and Yuuri shudders, biting his lip. He knows that if this continues, he won’t be able to hold on for long. As if on cue, Victor’s voice pierces the air. “How does it feel, Yuuri?”_

_Even if Yuuri had a response, he’s unable to answer him. Victor’s too busy silencing him with his hands. They’re sliding over his thighs again, applying pressure in all the right places, and Yuuri’s back arches just as Victor resumes—_

“...ri. YUURI!” Phichit’s voice reverberates in the room, snapping Yuuri out of his daydreams. Yuuri looks around, and realizes he’s sitting on the floor in the dance studio, with the rest of his hip hop crew getting ready to continue practice. _When did they even go on break?_ Yuuri wonders. He remembers walking into the studio with all of them, the room feeling warm because of the late afternoon sun. They agreed to meet today to polish up choreography they finalized last week. _We started practice, and...no, we started with stretches, right? How many run throughs did we do? How long have they been taking a break? How did I end up just sitting on the floor?_

Phichit sighs and shakes his head. “You keep spacing out, Yuuri. Was he really that amaz—”

“Shhh!! Shhh!!!” Yuuri shushes Phichit frantically, his hands flailing in the air. “Don’t say it out loud!” Yuuri doesn’t want anyone else in their dance troupe to hear what they’re talking about. They don’t need to know about his personal life, and especially not about his sex life.

“But Yuuri! You didn’t even text me that you weren’t coming home that night! I was so worried about you!” Phichit whines, his hand reaching out to Yuuri. Yuuri takes his hand, helping himself stand up. “And now you can’t even concentrate on dance. You’ve been zoning out so many times during practice that we had to stop. Everyone’s worried that you haven’t been feeling well.”

Yuuri straightens out his clothes and sighs. “I just can’t help it, Phichit…it felt like I was a completely different person…I was so swept up into it that I lost control of my whole body. But I just…” Yuuri stops and remembers that they’re not alone in the room, and that they probably have to get back to practicing soon. He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later,” he ends the topic, just like that. “We should start practicing.”

“As long as you don’t stop mid-dance again,” one of the other dancers tease, and Yuuri smiles a bit, albeit awkwardly. He knows he must’ve been a burden while they were trying to practice and he wouldn’t stop thinking about the other night with Victor. As they all get into position, he clears his mind and focuses on their image in the mirror and the music that’s about to start up. They’re going to perform soon, and he can’t let down the rest of his group.

Yuuri considers dance to be something he can get immersed in and lose track of time with. After he focuses on their routine, Yuuri barely thinks of what happened the other day. Instead, his mind is full of twists, turns, transitions, and he doesn’t even notice as the sun begins to set, the lighting of the room beginning to dim. However, the others eventually take note of it. Phichit signals the end of practice by turning off the speakers, and everyone begins to pack up. Yuuri picks up his bottle, intending to finish the water in it, but realizes that the bottle is already emptied, leaving him to wonder when exactly he finished it.

“Phichit, do you still have water?” he asks, and thanks Phichit when he hands him the rest of the water left in Phichit’s deep green thermos.

“Feeling thirsty, Yuuri?” he teases, earning a halfhearted glare from Yuuri as he finishes up Phichit’s water. However, he knows that if he says anything to defend himself in front of the rest of the crew, Phichit will turn it into a public spectacle. Yuuri’s also aware that Phichit doesn’t do that to harm Yuuri, but rather to interact with the other members more. He's content with how things are, though—in his opinion, the relationship he currently has with his crew is perfectly fine. So instead, he stays silent and gathers his things, heading back to the changing room with everyone.

To tell the truth, the only person Yuuri has really gotten to know since he joined the hip hop dance crew over a year ago is Phichit. The other members of the crew are friendly with Yuuri, of course—they’re all in one group chat, and Yuuri is painfully aware that he rarely ever contributes to it unless they’re talking about dance—but he hasn’t really taken any efforts to get closer with anyone else. Everyone in the group is much more extroverted and sociable than he is. Leo’s optimistic personality makes him especially popular, and JJ always has a charismatic air around him that attracts people to him. Both of the freshmen, Kenjirou and Guang Hong, are bundles of energy that are ready to burst at any moment. Phichit is always making jokes and messaging the group at least a few times a day. Meanwhile, there’s Yuuri: he checks the chat at most a few times a week, and he’s never spent any time outside of practice with any of the other members besides Phichit. The most interaction he ever had was with Kenjirou, who happened to see Yuuri during open house. It took one look at Yuuri’s dance routine for him to run up to Yuuri and declare that “MY NAME IS KENJIROU MINAMI AND I WANT TO DANCE JUST LIKE YOU!” Whatever that meant. He didn’t know what it meant even when, at the start of Yuuri’s sophomore year, Kenjirou bursted in during the middle of practice and declared that he would join the same dance crew as “Professor Katsuki”, a nickname that became a running joke between the rest of the dance crew, but nonetheless one that Kenjirou takes very seriously. To this day, Yuuri still isn’t sure what he means by that. In his mind, he’s just a normal hip hop dancer. There’s nothing special that sets him apart from everyone else in the crew.

Yuuri doesn’t make much conversation as they enter the changing room, everyone already accustomed to undressing in front of each other like this. Yuuri slips his shirt over his head, then pulls off his leggings. He stretches a bit before unlocking his locker, his mind beginning to wander again. The fatigue he feels now is of a completely different kind from what he felt a few nights ago. No, back then...he doesn’t even remember how he fell asleep. All he knows is that it was right after they’d finished. The most vivid parts of that night at the hotel is the very beginning.

_“Lay on the bed,” Victor tells him. The simple command makes Yuuri shiver. Victor’s eyes are on him as Yuuri reaches out, unbuttoning Victor’s shirt first. Yuuri feels his face flush at his actions, and tries to explain._

_“I thought that...well...I shouldn’t be the only one like this…,” he murmurs, pushing Victor’s shirt past his shoulders. His hands trail down Victor’s arms as he pushes the sleeves down, well aware of Victor’s gaze glued to Yuuri’s face. Yuuri shouldn't be aroused by his own actions, but having his hands on Victor’s skin—being able to touch him, and Victor simply standing there, watching him—it makes him feel short of breath, dizzy, as if he's dreaming. To his relief, Victor seems to understand what he means, letting the shirt fall to the floor before stepping forward and grasping Yuuri’s hips again, beginning to grind into him again but this time with Yuuri facing him. The feeling of Victor’s cock against his ass was lewd enough, but this is equally so—and if it wasn’t evident before, Yuuri’s convinced that Victor can feel his erection through his clothes now, a clear display of just how worked up he’s getting at these simple actions. Before they can get too carried away, Victor turns them around, and Yuuri gets the cue, stepping back towards the bed._

_Somewhere along the way, Victor takes a few moments to slip Yuuri’s glasses off of his face, setting them on the dresser close to the bed. Yuuri isn’t really paying attention—his senses are focused on Victor, his skin, his eyes, his hair, almost feeling as if his own body doesn’t belong to him. After all, he never even imagined he would get this far with Victor. The back of his knees hit the bed first, and he follows through with the movement, daring to open his eyes as he falls back on the bed with Victor on top of him. He gulps audibly, and the room suddenly seems much hotter than before with Victor trapping him to the bed. He knows that if he changes his mind, all he has to do is tell him. But right now, that’s the last thing he wants. Victor gazes deep into Yuuri’s eyes for a few moments before wordlessly leaning in, kissing Yuuri’s neck. The sensation of Victor’s lips, warm and smooth, make Yuuri bite back a moan, hands reaching out and grasping onto the first thing he touches, which happen to be the bed sheets. Without Victor having to say anything, gets the impression that it’s going to be a long night._

“Uh...Yuuri?” Phichit’s voice brings Yuuri out of his memories, and he looks over at Phichit with a slightly flushed expression, wondering how badly he’s zoned out again. “What is that?”

“What is what?” Yuuri asks in confusion, not sure what he’s referring to. Phichit is looking at his body intently, making Yuuri a bit self-conscious, but he can’t tell what’s going on.

“Look at your hips in the mirror,” Phichit suddenly says, pointing to the full-length mirror near the entrance to the changing room.

“M-my hips?” Yuuri repeats, and Phichit’s determined nod doesn’t make him feel any more reassured. He’s only in boxers as he heads to the mirror. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, not that Yuuri regularly looks at himself in the mirror like this. “Uh...okay?”

“Tell me what you see.”

The request is, at first, ridiculous to Yuuri. If he wants to be straightforward, he can simply answer, “I see my body.” However, he knows Phichit is trying to make a certain point, so he takes a second glance. His eyes scan from his shoulders, down his torso, across his hips, following the line of his boxers, seeing absolutely nothing except for…

“...W-what is that?” Yuuri turns to Phichit, feeling a deeper blush creep onto his face. He doesn’t necessarily ask that to get an answer, but to confirm his assumption. There’s only one way a mark like that could make it’s way onto Yuuri’s skin—a fairly dark bruise along Yuuri’s v-line, on the border of his boxers. He can tell by Phichit’s expression that he’s most likely thinking the same thing.

“I don’t know, Yuuri. What do you think it is?”

That’s the only affirmation Yuuri needs to panic.

“When did that get there!?” he exclaims, turning to Phichit with a horrified expression.

“I don’t know, Yuuri. When _did_ that get there?”

“I don’t even remember,” Yuuri groans, burying both of his hands in his hair. Just how out of control had he gotten that night? No, how out of control had _Victor_ gotten that night? Was there something he forgot?

“You didn’t feel it when he bit you?” remarks Phichit in disbelief, walking up to Yuuri and poking the spot. Yuuri blushes up to his ears. No matter how hard he tries to remember, it just isn’t coming back to him. “It was hard enough to leave a mark, obviously.”

“I was feeling too overwhelmed to notice where he was touching, Phichit!!” Yuuri exclaims in exasperation.

It takes less than a second for the room to go silent. His entire dance crew is staring at him. Judging. There’s no doubt in Yuuri’s mind that they’re criticizing the fact that he said something like that out loud. But it’s not his fault—he’s been so out of whack lately that he can’t control his own behavior. All he can do now is apologize. However, his crew doesn’t see a need for him to do so.

“...Damn, Yuuri, you got some?” Leo says with a hearty laugh, pulling on his shirt. Yuuri has no idea how to answer that.

“Timid little Yuuri got laid!?” said JJ with an expression of shock, albeit a teasing one. His wording is even more direct, and Yuuri just wants to disappear. _Jeez, Phichit!_ As Yuuri looks over, he sees that Phichit is laughing along with JJ, completely ignoring the suffering that Yuuri’s going through.

“Yuuri, spill the details now!!” This time it’s Kenjirou. Even though Yuuri is supposedly his idol, he has never felt so ashamed of himself before. He’s determined to climb into a locker and never come out until Kenjirou’s graduated.

“I...I have to go to work!” Yuuri tries to look for an escape, hastily putting on his pants to try to cover the spot as quickly as possible.

“But you quit your job, Yuuri!”

“You’re not helping, Phichit!!”

The rest of the crew can’t let this opportunity slide.

“Yuuri got the good good, that’s why he couldn’t focus on practice today!!!” Leo announces in a loud, excited voice. Once Leo says that, JJ puts his arm around Yuuri, pulling him close. The unexpected proximity makes him yelp, stiffening.

“LEO!” Yuuri tries to apprehend Leo for saying it so loud, but he’s too busy being paraded around by JJ.

“Oh, it all makes sense now,” Guang Hong perks up in the middle of pulling a gray sweater over his head, his eyes wide open, looking like he just reached an epiphany.

“Do you _really_ know what happened, Guang Hong?” Phichit presses him on, not entirely convinced by the tone of his voice.

“Um…,” he scratches the back of his head, doubting whether or not he does know what went on.

“JJ, cover his ears!” Yuuri frantically pushes JJ off of him, and JJ does exactly that.

“It’s a thousand times hotter in this spotlight than the one on stage,” Yuuri mutters to himself as he immediately puts on his shirt, covering up the mark everyone threw a fit over. Compared to when they finished practicing, he feels even more exhausted. He puts his glasses back on, grabs his bag, and waits for Phichit at the door. As he stands there, he can hear soft murmurs. He's completely certain they're talking about him.

“I thought it would happen his senior year,” Phichit confesses, just loud enough for Yuuri to hear. “I guess I lost the bet, huh…”

Yuuri clears his throat, clearly hearing what Phichit just said. “What was that, Phichit?”

“Nothing, Yuuri!” he cheerfully replies, putting his shirt on too. “So…how much do I owe you, Leo?”

“Twenty.”

“Damn it.”

“Phichit, come on!” Yuuri nags him to just leave, feeling his embarrassment beginning to surface again.

“Ahhh, geez Yuuri!” Phichit hastily reaches into his back pocket and takes out his wallet, handing over a $20 bill to Leo before scurrying over to Yuuri’s side. The rest of the crew collectively say and wave bye as the two of them leave, Yuuri nearly running out and pulling Phichit along with him.

“Do you want to go somewhere before we go home?” Phichit suggests, knowing that Yuuri became a bit uncomfortable while they were in the locker room. It’s also a friendly offer, knowing that once they get home, they’ll be swamped with homework that they know they definitely don’t want to do. “I can treat to some boba. Kung Fu Tea is still open!”

Yuuri perks up at that, finally breaking away from his thoughts. _Bubble tea…_ The sparkle in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Phichit.

“And plus, if we’re headed home, KFT is on the way!” continues Phichit cheerfully, grinning.

“...That sounds great, Phichit,” Yuuri softly smiles, definitely feeling a lot more relaxed now that it’s just the two of them. “Are you sure you don’t mind treating…?”

“For sure!” Phichit assures him. “I just want to be able to spend some time with you, Yuuri!”

“Phichit…we’re already roommates,” Yuuri smiles, laughing a bit.

“Well, living together and doing things together are sometimes really different! Can’t I spend some time with my best friend before we head back to our dreary lives?” Phichit pouts, to which Yuuri can't really say no.

“You have a point,” Yuuri says, and Phichit cheers. They walk side by side down the street to the bus stop, both of them talking about the other things that happened during each other’s day. Phichit fell asleep during lecture again, and Yuuri swears his TA is the most boring person on the planet. They both laugh at their boring classes and how they wish the semester would end already, and how much they want the competition to come sooner so they can tear up the stage with the routine they’ve been pouring sweat and blood into. They finally reach the bus stop, and wait in a comfortable silence. Spring weather is just around the corner, and it’s already a few degrees warmer than it was a few days ago, Yuuri and Phichit feeling comfortable wearing only the clothes they practice in.

Three minutes later, a bus arrives, and they both get on, tapping their bus passes. They sit side by side, their bags on their laps. The ride to Chinatown is half an hour, so they both pull out their earphones and listen to their music. Sometimes a track will come on that both of them like, so either one of them will lend an earbud to the other and they’ll listen together. However, after a while they retreat to their own inner worlds, calmly waiting for their stop.

Yuuri ends up dozing off, and once the bus announces the Michigan and Cermak stop, Phichit gently shakes Yuuri awake. They get off the bus and walk a few blocks to Chinatown Square, which is relatively quiet for a weekday night. As they walk through, Yuuri catches a glimpse of a restaurant tucked in the corner of the building complex, filled to the brim with people at tables and others standing outside, waiting to be seated: MingHin. Phichit and Yuuri ate dim sum there months ago, and the experience was heavenly. However, they couldn’t say the same for their wallets.

“Having flashbacks?” Phichit laughs a bit, noticing where Yuuri is staring.

“I wish we could go back sometime…but it’s too expensive for us right now,” murmurs Yuuri, sighing.

“Yeah, that’s true. But if we save up a little bit at a time, maybe we can come back in the summer!” Phichit offers, making Yuuri feel a bit better as he smiles and nods in agreement. They walk past the Chinese zodiac statues, then up the stairs to their destination.

Yuuri holds the door to Kung Fu Tea open for Phichit before walking in behind him. They’re both glad that it’s still open late at night, and once they’re done, it’s just a straight shot on the red line together. Compared to other bubble tea places in the area, this one has a much calmer atmosphere—the built-in lights are slightly dimmed, and it’s much less crowded. A line of high tables and chairs of various colors border the wall across from the orange counter where the employees take orders and make drinks, and on the wall perpendicular to the counter are lower lounge chairs with tables adjacent to large windows overseeing the other stores in Chinatown square. Over the speakers, Yuuri and Phichit recognize the music playing as one of the songs in their routine, which they found after hours of watching kpop routines to the point of getting sick of them. This one, however, is catchy every time and involves more advanced yet unique choreography, which was why they chose it for their routine.

“Go and order first, Yuuri! It’s on me tonight,” Phichit says as they walk up to the menu, to which Yuuri nods, his eyes scanning over the dozens of options. He ponders on what he wants to get for a few moments, Phichit looking with him, but decides in the end that he wants what he usually gets.

“Can I get a large oolong milk tea, with 50% ice and tapioca?”

“Jeez, Yuuri, a large? Looks like you’re really getting the hang of being spoiled,” Phichit jokes and Yuuri flails his arms, unable to even say anything in his own defense. Phichit laughs, and turns to the person at the register. “I’d like to try a large honey tea milk cap, with tapioca!” Phichit cheerily tells the person at the register, his bright smile making them smile a bit as well. Yuuri is amused that he always gets something new when they go out to eat, which isn't too often, but just frequent enough for Yuuri to wonder how Phichit hasn't eaten the same thing twice yet over the span of more than a year and a half together. Phichit hands over a $10 bill to the cashier, and puts the change in a glass jar right next to the register.

Once the transaction is completed, Yuuri and Phichit walk to the back of the store, towards the end of the long barrier between the workspace and the rest of the store, where the counter for pick up is. They stand there in comfortable silence, both of them knowing what Phichit wants to talk about—and, well, what Yuuri said they _would_ talk about, at a later time. Their drinks are placed on the counter a few minutes later, and they both take their respective drinks, grabbing straws before heading over to a high table back by the register.

“Alright, Yuuri. Spill the beans. What really happened between you and Mister Hotshot that night?” Phichit decisively pokes the end of his straw into the plastic sealing his drink and wastes no time in asking him the truth of what happened that night. Instinctively, Yuuri glances around them, hoping no one else just heard Phichit’s question. Thankfully, the only other people in the store seem to be the employees as well as a couple at the lower tables with their son on the opposite side of the store, along the windows.

“Jeez, Phichit…,” Yuuri sighs. “Okay… well…” Yuuri scrunches his nose as he tries to recall everything that happened that night, taking the time to poke his straw past the plastic seal and into the drink, swirling it around as he ponders. He trusts Phichit, and knows he can relax while talking about the events of a few nights ago. “Well...first, he pinned me up against the window, and took off most of my clothes.”

Phichit is about to take a sip of his drink, but Yuuri's words make his mouth fall open, blinking in surprise. “...Oh.”

“D-don’t worry, he didn't force me!” Yuuri reassures him, waving his hands in front of him. Phichit’s posture relaxes a bit, a signal that Yuuri could keep going. “I, um…” Yuuri's face feels much hotter than before, remembering exactly how he had given his consent. “I told him it was fine…and he let me take off his shirt.” Phichit is listening while taking sips of his drink, so Yuuri continues. “He was half naked after I took off his shirt, and then after we grinded for a little bit, he told me to lay on the bed. I laid down on the bed, and…”

 _Yuuri bites his lip, eyes fluttering shut. He does it to distract him from the sight of Victor on top of him, but it ends up having the opposite effect_ _—_ _now Victor’s lips feel warmer, hotter. It makes goosebumps rise on Yuuri’s arms. His kisses aren’t gentle, but they aren’t rough; neither is he rushing. Every movement from Victor is languid, calm, but it only puts Yuuri more on edge. He feels like he’s completely at the mercy of Victor, and whatever he wants to do, Yuuri will gladly oblige._

 _Yuuri’s hands twitch as Victor’s kisses begin to move down his chest, moving dangerously close to his nipples. The proximity makes Yuuri’s breath hitch, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Victor. For a brief second, Victor’s lips leave his skin, and Yuuri feels a mix of relief and anticipation. Then, warmth envelopes his nipple, and a soft moan escapes his lips. Victor’s teeth lightly graze over it, only further stimulating Yuuri. He’ll never say it aloud, but Yuuri’s first thought is,_ More. _He almost protests when Victor moves on, but instead he stifles another moan as kisses trail down his torso until reaching his navel. Without having to look, Yuuri knows that Victor is getting closer to his goal—his warm breath fans over Yuuri’s navel, and smooth fingertips run between his legs, spreading them slightly. The movement makes heat rush to Yuuri’s face, and he knows Victor won’t be going any easier on him once he feels those same fingertips slip under his boxers, feeling the skin below the surface._

_“Hngh...V-victor…,” Yuuri murmurs, his breath gradually becoming more uneven. His boxers are the only thing left. They’re the only barrier between Victor and Yuuri—especially Yuuri—and once they’re gone, Victor and Yuuri will be in completely new territory. With the way Victor’s been touching him, he’s sure it’s obvious to Victor just how excited he’s become._

_Victor’s lips move on to his abdomen, and Yuuri’s convinced that he’s teasing him. His kisses are trailing along the border between his skin and his boxers, and his fingers are lightly massaging the skin of his inner thighs. Yuuri’s skin is tingling with anticipation, and he can’t stop his hips from jerking upwards on reflex. This, in turn, makes Victor chuckle. Yuuri gulps when he hears it. It sounds lower and more sultry than he remembers from back at the restaurant._

_“I’m going to take them off,” Victor calmly states, and Yuuri shivers slightly. The fact that Victor is being so direct with him, yet somehow subdued at the same time, makes Yuuri’s head spin. It doesn’t help when Victor begins tugging at his boxers and Yuuri lifts his hips without another word. Another breathy chuckle comes from Victor, and his breath teases Yuuri’s thighs. “Wow, Yuuri.”_

_Yuuri’s ears feel hot. He did it without thinking, but both he and Victor know what Yuuri’s intentions are in doing so. He’s going to protest, but he doesn’t have time to. In one swift movement, in just a few seconds, Victor removes the barrier, and Yuuri is completely exposed to him._

_He’s speechless. He doesn’t know what to expect from Victor. It’s completely silent between them, and Yuuri’s eyes simply close tighter, his grip on the bed sheets also tightening slightly. He doesn’t know what Victor’s going to say, what Victor’s going to do, but—_

_“Ah...h-hah…!”_

_Yuuri’s mind blanks, his mouth falling open in a broken moan. It’s one thing to have Victor’s lips on his neck, his stomach, and his abdomen. But when those lips touch the tip of Yuuri’s cock, it turns into something else entirely. And it’s not just his lips. It’s his tongue as well, swirling around the tip and making Yuuri’s back arc off of the bed, gasping. “Wet” and “warm” are the first two words that come to mind, and nothing else. Those two words are the only thing Yuuri is able to focus on as Victor’s lips go past a kiss, gradually enveloping the tip of his length, encasing it in that delicious warmth Yuuri is beginning to crave. He doesn’t even pay much attention as his legs are spread wider by those nimble fingers. Victor keeps him busy, sucking lightly and slowly taking in more of Yuuri’s cock into his mouth, drawing soft whines and whimpers from Yuuri. Victor’s still taking his time, and it makes Yuuri want to scream._

“...Woah, Yuuri. TMI.”

“H-huh?” Yuuri blinks a few times, realizing that he is most certainly not in the hotel room at Waldorf Astoria, but still at Kung Fu Tea, with Phichit sitting across from him and pop music in the background.

“I never told you to get that descriptive,” Phichit laughs, prompting Yuuri’s face to flush a deep red. He got carried away. Again. He’s not even sure how much he just disclosed to Phichit. “So? What else?”

“That’s it.”

“...What?”

“T-that’s all we did, Phichit,” Yuuri murmurs, taking a sip of his drink. The memory of that night made him feel a bit thirstier than he would like to admit.

“...You're lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes!!”

Yuuri jolts at his sudden exclamation, ready to argue against him, but it doesn't seem like Phichit says it to counter him but rather as a cheer. Meanwhile, Phichit immediately takes out his phone and tries to message Leo, unknowingly opening their dance crew FaceBook chat instead. As Yuuri’s phone begins to vibrate at a suspiciously similar rate to when Phichit sends messages, he tries to get Phichit’s attention, dread bubbling up in his stomach. However, Phichit just waves him off and continues, too immersed in the messages to notice.

[Phichit Chulanont: Leo! You better not have spent that $20!]

[Leo de la Iglesia: What? Why?! I was going to buy us donuts for break next practice...]

[Phichit Chulanont: It was just a blowjob!]

By now, Yuuri is looking at Phichit in horror.

[JJ Leroy: So Yuuri didn’t get any?!]

[Phichit Chulanont: JJ?! What are you…oh. This is the crew chat.]

[Guang Hong Ji: Didn’t get any???]

[Leo de la Iglesia: Guang, just block Phichit so you never have to see his messages ever again…]

[Phichit Chulanont: Hey!]

[Phichit Chulanont: ANYWAY! Just give me back my $20 tomorrow!]

[Leo de la Iglesia: Gotcha]

“I guess the crew knows more about my sex life than I’d like…,” Yuuri mutters, shifting slightly in discomfort. His crew has no reason to know this much about him. They may end up treating him differently just because of this, and he doesn’t want that to happen. As it is, they don’t know him that well in the first place. If someone were to ask them three things they know about Yuuri, it’d probably go something along the lines of “he likes dance, he’s a college sophomore, and he got a blowjob the other day.” It isn’t exactly flattering.

“Sorry about that…” Phichit is genuinely sorry, he didn’t know it was the group chat. Although somewhat conscious of the way Yuuri hesitates around the rest of the crew, Phichit hopes that eventually he won’t be afraid to interact with them more. After all, they’ve all asked Phichit what the secret to becoming Yuuri’s friend is at some point, without Yuuri knowing. “But other than that… did you find out anything else about Mister Hotshot? As your friend, It seems a bit off-putting that you don’t know anything else about him.”

“I know…as the person who spent the night with him, it’s a little off-putting for me…,” Yuuri sighs.

“Maybe we can find something online. I mean, if he’s rich, there has to be some sort of information about him, right? Unless he’s like…part of the mafia.”

Unfortunately for Phichit, his attempt at humor doesn't go so well.

“Oh no…what if he is…?!” Yuuri can feel his own anxiety spike at Phichit’s joke, even though he technically knows it’s just a joke. What if someone is following his every move now, because he slept with a mafia boss? What if he’ll be held captive? Yuuri would usually deem such a thing as crazy, but after being contacted by a sugar daddy within an hour of making an account as a sugar baby, picked up by a chauffeur, given a thousand dollars just for a jacket and tie, taken to a restaurant he likely would've never gone to in his lifetime, and brought to a hotel with arguably the most beautiful man Yuuri has ever met, Yuuri no longer thinks anything is impossible.

Phichit’s voice abruptly brings him out of his worrying thoughts. “Oh. I guess not. I just found a LinkedIn page under his name. Doesn't have much on it, though.” Phichit gives his phone to Yuuri. Just like Phichit said, it’s the bare minimum. It has his name, his company name, and a professional headshot of him. Nothing more. “It doesn't give much clues on who he is.”

“...I guess we could look up his company. ‘Champion Digital Designs’ is what it says on his page,” says Yuuri before handing Phichit’s phone back to him. He taps on Safari on his phone, and types up the name in the search bar at the top. The main page for the company is the first thing that comes up on the search, and Yuuri checks it out. “Huh…it’s a page for…website and logo design? A little unexpected, honestly…”

“Huh…those kinds of companies are really easy to start up,” Phichit comments, remembering what he heard from someone. “Look on the page more? The more information, the better.”

Yuuri wordlessly nods and navigates through the various subheadings, noticing how easy it is to switch from one page to the next and locate everything he needs. However, the information that he needs the most is nowhere to be found. The only thing he does stumble upon is a handful of examples for layouts of websites, all of which Yuuri finds appealing.

“Look at how how quality these websites look!” Yuuri says quietly but eagerly, scrolling down and showing Phichit the examples that were given on the site. “They look amazing! Coding sounds hard as is, but to have a product like this?! Where did he even go to learn all of this?!”

"Who knows, but...," Phichit starts, viewing one of the sample layouts. "No prices on these, either."

"...Yeah," Yuuri admits hesitantly.

"Well, you know what they say."

"....Um, I don't," Yuuri murmurs after a few moments, thinking that Phichit was going to explain but getting nervous when he didn't.

"Really, Yuuri?" Phichit raises an eyebrow, then huffs a bit in amusement at Yuuri's confused expression. "If they don't show their rates, it's probably because they're high—and the people who buy from them know that."

"...Oh," Yuuri realizes. He may not have exact numbers, but he has a feeling he knows why Victor can afford to be a sugar daddy now. 

“Is there an information page?”

Yuuri tries to find an about page, but it doesn’t say anything about Victor’s past. It just states his name, email, and phone number.

“Ugh…it’s hopeless, Phichit…nothing new about him is on the page.”

“Bummer,” Phichit sighs, folding an arm on the table. “Have you looked at his Sweet Meet profile more carefully?”

“Oh…not yet,” confesses Yuuri. “I think it said before that we need to confirm that we met in real life before we can see the rest of each other’s profiles, so let me just figure out how to do that.” Yuuri is lucky though, because when he opens the app, there’s a notification in the sidebar asking if he met with Victor. Yuuri presses yes, waiting to see what will happen next.

**[Congratulations on your first sweet meet! You now have complete access to Victor Nikiforov’s profile.]**

Yuuri immediately clicks on Victor’s profile, butterflies beginning to rise in his stomach, and once Victor’s profile loads, he starts to swipe through the almost-bare page, trying to see if there’s anything that will help him learn more about this “Victor Nikiforov.” The results aren’t exactly disappointing, but...

“Anything?”

“Phichit…all of the pictures are just his dog.”

“I mean, you love dogs, so is it that bad?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, and Phichit already knows that tone of voice. “Let’s see if he actually filled out the information.”

Yuuri scrolls down, but it truly is the bare minimum. It says he’s a sugar daddy, looking for a sugar baby. He is into anything. He is a CEO of a tech company...

_He’s 35 years old._

Yuuri chokes on a tapioca pearl.

“Yuuri! Yuuri, are you okay?!” Phichit reaches over to put his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, startled by Yuuri’s sudden reaction. It takes several seconds for Yuuri to recover, and even though he does so physically, it doesn’t mean he’s mentally sound. In fact, it feels as if his head is spinning in circles. However, he eventually manages to answer to Phichit.

“HE’S THIRTY-FIVE.” By now, Yuuri doesn't care that practically everyone in the store is looking over at him. He's far too astounded to pay attention to the stares he's getting.

“ _He’s what?_ ” Phichit whispers.

“Thirty. Five. Years. Old.”

“Shut up!” Phichit’s eyes widen phenomenally. Yuuri doesn’t recall ever seeing them wider before. “You did _not_ hook up with a guy almost _twice_ your age.”

“H-he’s not twice my age! Just...fifteen years older…”

“Five years away from forty!”

“Well, isn’t that what a sugar daddy is!?” Yuuri tries to defend himself. “Twice my age and loaded?!”

“I mean, not necessarily! How did you not notice this before?” Phichit mutters in disbelief, realizing that they’re still in a very public place. Yuuri follows suit and responds in an aggressive whisper.

“I fell for his dog before I could even check, and I was desperate for rent money! I didn’t care!”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know how old he was when you slept with him!” Phichit’s wording makes Yuuri’s face flush a bright red.

“I told you, I didn’t sleep with him! He could’ve fooled me with how perfect his body was!”

“No, Yuuri! You were actually fooled, this isn’t a hypothetical situation!” Phichit reminds him. “I mean, you fooled yourself, but still!”

Yuuri doesn’t have an answer for a few seconds, but he feels as if he needs to win this discussion with Phichit. He’s in too much shock to lose a debate with him. “Okay, his hair might be silver—but I didn’t want to assume anything!”

“What if he dyed his hair silver?”

“Oh god, Phichit, stop,” Yuuri groans, wanting to crawl under the high table and hide forever. He should have been more careful about who he went out with that night. For someone who was so scared of getting kidnapped, he obviously didn’t do enough of his own research.

“I dare you to ask about his hair color!” Phichit says with an expression too serious for Yuuri to take seriously.

“Phichit.”

“I bought you boba tonight, you can’t complain!”

“Was this your plan all along?!” This time Yuuri’s the one in disbelief. Phichit is being so persistent that Yuuri could be fooled into thinking it’s Phichit’s sex life they’re talking about and not his own.

“I need to know!” Phichit insists vehemently, and Yuuri knows he's not backing down without a fight. “Why don’t you ask to meet again, while you’re at it?”

“M-me!?” Yuuri almost squeaks, immediately panicking. There’s no way he can do that. Not after the way things happened.

“I mean, he might be old, but he made you feel good, didn’t he?” Phichit teases, only making Yuuri more flustered. He can’t say anything to deny that. After all, he didn’t space out during practice today because Victor was mediocre in bed. In fact, it’s the opposite—Victor is _too_ experienced. So experienced that it completely overwhelmed Yuuri. So experienced that he can remember every touch, every sensation during that time with him, even if he wasn't completely aware of what his own body was doing.

_Yuuri doesn’t need to open his eyes to visualize exactly what’s going on. He can tell from the feeling of smooth hair brushing against his abdomen and inner thighs that Victor is moving his head. He can tell from the warmth that gradually consumes him that Victor is taking him in deeper with each bob of his head. He can tell from the vibrations coming from Victor’s mouth that he’s enjoying every second of it. Every second and inch of Yuuri._

_For a brief moment, Yuuri remembers what he saw at the restaurant. Those smooth lips, the tongue that darted out to catch the fish, the tongue that slid under the fork so dexterously, the tongue swirling around his cock, the tongue teasing the tip—_

_“A-ah!” Yuuri’s voice permeates the room, and his body quivers. Victor just met him today. He shouldn’t be this good at making Yuuri lose his mind. At this rate, Yuuri won’t be able to keep up with him. But as Yuuri remembers that scene from the restaurant, Victor nearly mimics the movement, his tongue running over the underside of Yuuri’s cock. He’s short of breath as he grasps the bed sheets tighter, the warmth of Victor’s mouth and tongue the only thing he can think of at the moment. He feels dangerously close to coming at that point, which would be embarrassing, considering it’s their first night together._

_Then, it’s suddenly too much, because Victor is taking him in deeper than he ever has before, and he’s sucking harshly, vibrations running up and down all of Yuuri’s cock._

_“V-victor…!” Yuuri gasps, clutching the sheets even harder. He begins panting, realizing that it isn’t enough to grab the sheets. His hands grasp for something, anything, but the pleasure consuming him makes him lose focus, writhing under Victor’s touch. “C-can’t…ahh…”_

_His hips jolt when Victor suddenly pulls off, but Victor’s words don’t do anything but make Yuuri closer to the edge, so much closer to falling over it. “Let the pleasure consume you, Yuuri. I want to see you completely undone.”_

Yuuri abruptly comes to his senses as he feels his phone slip out of his hands. He assumes he’s about to drop it, but when he looks at his empty hands and then at the floor, not seeing the familiar blue case in sight, he immediately looks over at Phichit, a sense of dread washing over him. “Phichit.”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Just seeing if you missed any info. And _maybe_ sending Victor a message.”

Alarm bells go off in Yuuri’s head almost immediately, and he reaches out to snatch his phone back. He manages to get a grip on it, but Phichit is laughing and gripping the phone just as hard.

“I was joking, Yuuri! Calm down, oka—hm?” Phichit blinks as Yuuri’s grip loosens, seeing something on Yuuri’s screen. “Uh...I’m not sure what happened just now, but…” He hands the phone back to Yuuri, and a wave of relief washes over Yuuri as he looks at the screen himself. It doesn’t look like anything happened, but as he looks at the top right corner of the screen, he sees a small emoji.

“What is this…?” Yuuri murmurs, pressing on it to see if anything happens. Of course, the first thing that grabs his attention is the emoji. It has heart eyes, and is smiling widely. The message it sends across is clear. He’s almost certain that when the emoji enlarges to fill the center of the screen and a caption pops up along the bottom that he ceases to breathe for a few seconds.

**[You have reacted to Victor Nikiforov’s profile! You may change reactions from the settings menu.]**

“Oh god,” Yuuri mutters, and doesn’t protest this time as Phichit tilts the phone toward himself to read it. “What have you done?”

“This wasn’t me!” Phichit defends himself. “You tried snatching your phone and my finger just pressed it!”

“That doesn’t matter! What matters is that now it says that apparently _this_ is how I reacted to Victor’s profile!” Yuuri exclaims, feeling heat rush to his ears. He looks back at his phone and goes straight to the settings. “I-I can change it, right?”

Yuuri can nearly hear Phichit’s pout in his response. “Change it to what, a crying face? I think you should leave it like that.”

“Good joke,” Yuuri responds immediately, scrolling down until he finds a section labeled “reactions”. To his relief, he sees that his reaction to Victor’s profile is reversible, and he does so immediately, a wave of relief washing over him. He sighs and leans back in his chair, finally locking his phone after what seems like an eternity and putting it face-down on the table. “I thought bubble tea would be a way of destressing…”

“It wasn’t?”

“I almost choked, Phichit.”

“Oh yeah,” Phichit giggles, reaching over and rubbing Yuuri’s back. “But that’s because you’re worrying too much. If it was me, I would have reacted to his profile a long time ago.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow in skepticism as he finishes his tea. It’s beginning to get dark out, and they should be heading back to the apartment. It’s not like they both don’t have work to do outside of dance. “I feel like you know this already, Phichit, but I’m not you. I can’t just do that.”

“...But you want to do it?”

The sudden revelation makes Yuuri fall silent, cheeks reddening as he clears his throat and stands up from the stool. “A-are you done with yours? I’ll throw it away for you.”

“Yep,” Phichit responds, the teasing tone in his voice blatantly obvious as he hands his empty cup to Yuuri, then stands with him.

Thankfully, they only have to take one train to get back to their apartment. It’s relatively quiet as they walk to the station, and the traffic has quieted down as well. Luckily enough, a train arrives just as they make their way up to the elevated platform. Breaking into a jog, they make it to the doors just as they open, and they enter the train, getting seats near the middle. They spend a few minutes in silence, Yuuri beginning to feel exhausted from practice and the mental hurricane he went through, before his phone suddenly vibrates, causing him to jolt.

“You okay?” Phichit asks, looking at Yuuri, and Yuuri manages to nod a bit as he rubs an eye under his glasses and looks at the notification on his lock screen, his heart stopping for a split second.

“...It’s Victor.”

“What does it say!?” Phichit asks, leaning in much closer as Yuuri unlocks his phone and nervously opens the app, going to the tab with his messages. Ever since that night, they haven’t contacted each other even once. What did Victor send him a text for? Would it be to say that he doesn’t want to meet Yuuri again? That he was unsatisfying in bed?

[Do you like what you see, Yuuri?]

Yuuri doesn’t get what Victor is talking about at first, but as he takes a few moments to think, it comes back to him. The emoji. His profile. His accidental reaction. A wave of dread washes over him, so he decides to play innocent for now.

[?]

[Hm...the reaction isn’t showing on my profile anymore. You might have reversed it, but I got a notification for it earlier, Yuuri. That was quite endearing feedback. <3]

So much for planning to play innocent.

“Phichit, just lower me into my grave. Right now. I’ll even dig it myself, you just have to cover me up with dirt.”

“You’re so dramatic, Yuuri.”

Yuuri tries to come up with an excuse to why Phichit accidentally reacted to Victor’s profile. Thankfully, one comes to mind relatively quickly.

[I mean...yeah. Makkachin looks really cute in all those pictures on your profile.]

[Haha, I know right! I picked the best photos of her to put on there.]

Yuuri exhales, feeling as if he just barely dodged a bullet.

“Ask him about his age,” Phichit suddenly whispers.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that.”

Phichit isn't in the mood for pretending. In fact, during the entirety of the time on the train and the walk to their apartment, Phichit won’t stop giving Yuuri suggestions and trying to pressure him to text Victor again.

“Maybe you can play it cool and say something like, ‘by the way, how old are you?’ Oh, what if you give him a compliment first? ‘The other night was great, you must be in your early twenties like me!’” Yuuri’s flustered protests go unnoticed by his roommate. “Well, maybe that’s a little too direct for you. Something more subtle would be better, huh?”

Somewhere along the way, Yuuri simply tunes Phichit’s voice out. There’s no way he can do even half the things Phichit is suggesting. They may be things Phichit can easily do, but for Yuuri it’s the complete opposite. Unfortunately, even as they enter their apartment and put their bags away, getting comfortable, Phichit won’t stop pestering him. On one hand, Yuuri gets why he feels that way—even Yuuri has a hard time believing the person he met that day was fifteen years older than him. He isn’t sure how to feel about it. Phichit is just more outspoken about it.

Yuuri sighs at how persistent Phichit is to find out if Victor is really 35 years old. However, he knows Phichit won’t be satisfied until Victor admits it himself, at the very least. He opens Sweet Meet as he sits crosslegged on the couch, a little on the edge that this would be the first real message he sends to Victor ever since their night together. The messages from earlier don't count—Yuuri’s “reaction” was an accident, and short-lived. He doesn't know how long this exchange will last, but he hopes he doesn't mess anything else up and ruin any possibility of seeing him again. As it is, the topic of his message is already questionable.

[So...Phichit wants to know if your hair color is natural.]

Almost immediately, he gets a response. It’s surprising, just how quickly Victor answers him. Yuuri is under the impression that Victor has a busy life, or at least a life that is much busier than Yuuri’s.

[Oh? You think it’s dyed?]

[No, I don’t think that at all. Phichit’s just wondering.]

[Haha, it’s natural.]

“He says it’s natural,” Yuuri announces in an uninterested voice to Phichit, who is now sitting next to him, sighing. He never doubted it, so having to repeat the information feels redundant. But Phichit keeps insisting that he’s lying. “Phichit, just accept it. I don't get why this is a big deal.”

“Ask him to send a picture of when he was younger!”

“Phichit, that’s a little weird…!” Yuuri freaks out, but after a few moments of hesitation his curiosity wins him over and he ends up typing the message and sending it, or else the conversation he and Victor are having will end soon. He wants to keep it going as long as he can.

[Phichit...wants to see a younger picture of you…just to make sure it really is natural. Like, born-with-it natural.]

[Hm...you were tugging on my hair the other night. Did it feel anything but natural to you?]

Yuuri stares at the message, completely frozen in place. It isn't until Phichit waves a hand in front of his face that he's dragged back into reality.

“Phichit, look what you did!” Yuuri exclaims as he shows him the message. “I don’t even remember pulling his hair!” He’s trying to search his memories, cheeks burning from the implicit confession that the pleasure Victor gave him made his memories a bit murky, but all he can remember is the pleasure that came with Victor’s lips.

Phichit reaches over and grabs Yuuri’s phone, Yuuri too slow to protest and too exhausted to fight back. He buries his face in his hands when he sees the message Phichit sends on Yuuri's behalf.

[HI IT’S PHICHIT AND I SWEAR THAT’S NOT YOUR NATURAL HAIR COLOR]

[Haha, hello Phichit. Why don’t you ask Yuuri?]

“Yuuri!!” Phichit exclaims as he shows what Victor had responded, practically shoving the phone in his face.

“I-it...uh...f-felt pretty natural?” Yuuri manages to weakly murmur, still having absolutely no recollection of so much as touching Victor’s hair.

“Goddamnit,” Phichit finally groans in defeat, holding Yuuri's phone out to him. Yuuri snatches it back with a weak glare, sighing and texting an apology to Victor.

[I’m sorry, Phichit took my phone and he’s still not completely convinced. I don’t get why he’s so persistent about it...]

[Haha, well, it is very much real. Well?]

[...Well?]

[Why were you talking about me?]

Yuuri feels as if he’s been shot right through the heart—like someone placed a target over his chest and hit the bullseye with pinpoint accuracy.

[Phichit was...curious about you.]

[How much did you tell him?]

[Just] Yuuri’s fingers fumble, trying to come up with an adequate answer that doesn’t compromise his sanity. [Uh...how far we went.]

[Oh? What did you say, hm?]

[I...don’t have to answer that.] Even though they’re communicating through text, Yuuri feels put on the spot, and his embarrassment is beginning to consume him. Maybe he shouldn’t have played along with Phichit in the first place.

[Hm...I guess I’ll just get you to tell me later.] Victor’s innuendo makes Yuuri gulp. [Is that all you talked about?]

[Um…]

[Um?]

[...We kind of...or rather, I...just discovered your age a few hours ago…] Yuuri bites his lip, nervously waiting for an answer. He’s still processing Victor’s age. It just doesn’t fit with what his impression of Victor. If anything, Yuuri thought he was in his mid to late twenties. However, the fact doesn’t make Yuuri see Victor in a different light, per se.

[Oh? You didn’t know? You didn’t look at my profile before you accepted my date proposal?]

Yuuri feels like screaming again. Victor keeps hitting the bullseye with each of his replies, exposing Yuuri’s compulsive tendencies, and Yuuri is definitely not prepared for being put on the spot like this multiple times in less than a few minutes.

[I just kind of accepted it on a whim...that must sound weird, sorry.]

[Don’t worry, I’m not offended or anything. Does it make you uncomfortable? My age.]

Yuuri takes a few moments to think about that. _Am I uncomfortable? I don’t think that’s the right word...I mean, I was shocked at first, but I wasn’t disgusted…_ He thinks back to the way Victor acted around him on their first date. _Why didn’t I think he was older? What made him seem closer to my age, even though he’s so much richer, so different from me…?_

Then, his mind wanders back to a particular moment during their meeting, and Victor’s words to him.

_'I might like being in control, but that doesn’t mean you should feel inferior to me. You are my equal, understand?'_

_'In fact, I’m honored that you decided to accept my invitation. You’re my equal, Yuuri.'_

_'You. Are. My. Equal. There’s no room for debate. It’s a fact, and nothing less.'_

_'Yuuri, you’ll be providing things as well. Companionship. Company.'_

_'Be yourself. I want you to enjoy yourself. A sugar relationship isn’t just about money and sex. In fact, if doesn’t have to be about sex at all. It’s about friendship, networking, advising, and mentorship. I’ll be here to help you with decision you deem too overwhelming. Having more life experience, I would like to take care of some of your burdens, if you let me. Don’t think about money—that’s for me to handle.'_

Suddenly, it seems much clearer to him. It would have been different if the barrier between Victor and Yuuri had been more pronounced, more noticeable. But Victor wasn’t like that. He _isn’t_ like that. During their meeting, Victor made it clear that they were equal multiple times, and never used his age as something to put an imbalance between them in their interactions. His age or Yuuri’s were never even mentioned, and Victor didn’t use it as a way to pin Yuuri down. Victor’s desire to dominate was strictly restrained to the bedroom, and Yuuri could tell by the way he was treated the next morning that Victor’s dominating nature in bed didn’t carry over to their casual, non-sexual interactions. If there was anything Yuuri felt that came strongly across from Victor during their time together, it was Victor’s desire to make Yuuri even a bit more open around him.

When Yuuri disclosed his financial issues to Victor, the tone of Victor’s voice and the feeling of his finger rubbing circles on Yuuri’s hand demonstrated more than lust, and although it took Yuuri a while to figure out what other feelings were conveyed through his words and actions, he knows what they are now. Reverence. Respect. The things Yuuri usually attributes to other people and never to himself. To Victor, it didn’t matter that Yuuri was much younger than him. He regarded him with the same respect as he would to someone his own age or older.

And in the end, Yuuri truly does feel a bit more confident. After all, regardless of the fact that Victor had an aura of control around him, Yuuri was ultimately the one who made the decision to meet with him. Yuuri agreed to eat with him. Yuuri gave permission for Victor to take him to a hotel. Yuuri told Victor to touch him. To be completely honest, Yuuri doesn’t regret the decisions he made. No, the only thing that Yuuri honestly feels now is...awe. For slightly questionable reasons that he isn’t eager to announce—like the fact that a man fifteen years older than him had given him the most intense blowjob of his life.

He decides to settle with a tamer response for Victor.

[Um...not really...you just...look a lot younger, is all…]

[Hm, do I?]

[Well...I mean, I guess I don’t...know that well, but...you’re so in shape that it makes you seem younger…]

[In shape, huh? Thinking about my body?]

[Maybe.]

It takes a few seconds for Yuuri to process the message he just sent on impulse.

“Shit…! Can I take that message back?! I sent it without thinking!” Yuuri exclaims as he hits his forehead with the palm of his hand, regretting that his mental filter gave out. He’s in disbelief of himself. _Texting this late about this is definitely dangerous_ , he thinks to himself. Much to his dismay, Victor replies.

[What do you like the most about my body, Yuuri?]

[Um] Yuuri feels a blush creep up to his ears. He needs to stop this conversation before he says something that he’ll regret the next morning. [I need more time to think about that.]

[Alright. I guess I’ll just have to ask you again later. Good night, Yuuri.]

Yuuri is immensely glad that he’s able to get out of their conversation quickly. Talking about it is bad enough, but over text just makes it feel all the more risqué.

[Good night.] Yuuri sends back. Yuuri stands from the couch—Phichit had already moved over to the dining table a few moments ago and was doing homework while Yuuri texted Victor—ready to turn in for the night when his phone buzzes again.

[Ah. One more thing.]

Victor’s message makes Yuuri curious. It’s the first time Victor technically initiates conversation with him, with the exception of the incident concerning Yuuri’s “reaction” to his profile. What, exactly, does Victor need? [What is it?]

[How’s your body? You came really intensely and fell asleep immediately after. I was a bit worried.]

Yuuri’s whole face turns red to a whole new degree. This whole night, Victor has been able to say things so straightforwardly, which doesn’t necessarily surprise Yuuri, but definitely keeps catching him off guard.

[...You don’t have to say it like that...I’m fine, though…] Yuuri shakily texts back, flustered out of his mind. The whole night was just filled of talk of Yuuri passing out from Victor’s blowjob on so many fronts that he was sure it would be the only thing anyone would know him for ever again.

[That’s good to hear.]

[Yeah...sorry.] Now, Yuuri is holding his breath.

[Why?]

[I wasn’t able to reciprocate anything that night.]

Yuuri feels a wave of relief as he finally says what has been on his mind ever since that night, only for a new flood of anxiety to overwhelm him. _What will he even say? Will he be mad that I bought it up? Will he be annoyed?_ Yuuri feels his breath hitch again, waiting for an answer. Now that he’s said it, everything depends on Victor.

[It’s fine, Yuuri. Besides, if you want to, you can make up for it next time we meet.]

For a few long moments, Yuuri simply stares at his phone before texting back in a daze. _Wait..._

[Next time…?]

[Does Friday sound good to you?]

_Is he..._

[Well...I have an afternoon class that gets out at 4, but after that, I don’t have plans…]

[Do you want to meet up again, then?]

_He wants to..._

[Um...would you like that?]

[I would love that, Yuuri.]

_He wants to see me again._

Yuuri breathes again and his heart starts to pound. He gets to see Victor again this Friday. Within the same week after meeting him for the first time.

[Is it okay if I plan where we go?]

[Yeah, that’s okay] Yuuri sends his response, wondering if Victor already has a place in mind. From what Yuuri’s seen, Victor is definitely the perfectionist type, having everything organized and prepared at the right time.

[Excellent. I’ll plan something worthwhile. Good night again, Yuuri.]

[Good night, Victor.]

Yuuri puts his phone down, completely and utterly exhausted from his exchanges with Victor. He goes over to the dining table, ready to start homework with Phichit, who’s already hard at work. For a moment, Yuuri thinks about telling him what just happened, but the goal is to get work done, so he decides to save it for when they’ve actually gotten some of their assignments completed. They sit across from each other, their notebooks and laptops splayed out on the table. Thankfully, the bubble tea is still giving Yuuri some extra energy. It’s close to midnight by now—which isn’t usually when he starts assignments—but fortunately for Yuuri, his professors were lenient with homework today. Another half hour goes by quickly. They’re both silent, noses in their work, until Phichit perks up.

"So you didn't give him a blowjob back?" he snickers, making Yuuri’s hand jolt. He curses under his breath, realizing he had just scribbled a line across his paper in black ink from sheer shock. Fortunately, it isn’t something he has to turn in.

"Phichit, I blacked out!"

"Yuuri,” Phichit says in a certain tone, Yuuri recognizing it right away.

“...Okay, I didn’t black out, but I was tired and I just fell asleep.”

“From just a blowjob.”

“Yes! It was a long day, okay! And plus, have _you_ ever been sucked off so masterfully and come so intensely that you passed out?!”

“...Uh, no, I can’t say that I have,” Phichit states matter-of-factly, making Yuuri incredibly self-conscious of what he just said and how he phrased it.

“W-well, I have, and it’s something. An experience.”

“Jeez, Yuuri. You may have stamina in dance, but really?”

“Listen, I wasn’t expecting it at all! He was the one that said he wanted to steal me for the night, even though I was already mentally exhausted with quitting my job, downloading the app, buying almost a thousand dollars’ worth of clothing, and an incredibly sexually frustrating date!” Yuuri makes his point by counting off the multiple stressors of that day on his fingers. The more Yuuri thinks about it, the more exhausted he feels simply from the memory of that night. So many things happened in that span of twenty four hours. That has to be the only explanation for his reaction to Victor’s touch.

“Okay, fine, but that’s still funny. Stamina Prince Yuuri passing out at a mere blowjob.” Another snicker comes from Phichit.

“Phichit, don’t.”

“But that’s what happened!”

“I swear, if you tell the chat about that nickname you just gave me, I’ll move out.”

“Move where, with Blowjob King Nikiforov?”

Yuuri isn’t enjoying the way his handwritten notes are starting to look with several lines across the page.

“Phichit, I really don’t appreciate these nicknames…”

“But don’t they fit perfectly?!”

Yuuri’s phone vibrates, and he gives Phichit a skeptical stare before checking it. It’s a message from the crew chat.

**[Phichit Chulanont set Yuuri Katsuki’s nickname to Stamina Prince.]**

“Phichit, I am going to fight you.” The messages begin flooding in, however, not giving him a chance to legitimately challenge Phichit.

[Leo de la Iglesia: Stamina Prince??? Because of dance?]

[Leo de la Iglesia: …oh.]

[Stamina Prince: PLEASE IGNORE THAT.]

[Leo de la Iglesia: But I thought it was just a blowjob?]

[Stamina Prince: Exactly! It’s false, just ignore it!]

**[Stamina Prince set Phichit Chulanont’s nickname to Phichit Chu-liar-nont.]**

Yuuri hears a gasp from across the table, but decides to ignore it and stays within the world of their group chat.

[Phichit Chu-liar-nont: Yuuri are you trying to frame me]

[Stamina Prince: Given the context, it’ll work.]

[Phichit Chu-liar-nont: Yuuri, you’re so cruel!]

[Phichit Chu-liar-nont: …it doesn’t feel right to be the only ones with nicknames.]

Yuuri feels relieved that the subject seems to be shifting from him to the rest of the chat members, so he simply watches the chat for a few minutes. It’s never happened before, but he feels a strange urge to engage in their conversation regardless of the fact that it doesn’t involve dance at all.

**[Leo de la Iglesia set JJ Leroy’s nickname to King JJ.]**

[King JJ: Aww…Leo, I’m touched. Thank you.]

**[Phichit Chu-liar-nont set Guang Hong Ji’s nickname to Cover his ears.]**

**[Stamina Prince set Leo de la Iglesia’s nickname to Leo you all need Iglesia.]**

[Leo you all need Iglesia: …Yuuri, I feel honored. This is the first time you’ve joked around with us.]

Yuuri doesn’t know what sets it off. Maybe it’s Leo’s appreciation of his actions. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s past one in the morning. Maybe it’s simply the ridiculousness of the situation. He continues to interact with the other chat members, feeling less inhibited and just a bit more playful, similar to the way he does with Phichit.

**[Stamina Prince set Kenjirou Minami’s nickname to Collective Son.]**

[Collective Son: Son?!]

[Stamina Prince: Son, please change my name...]

[Collective Son: GOT IT PROFESSOR KATSUKI!!!!]

**[Collective Son set Stamina Prince’s nickname to Professor Katsuki.]**

Now it’s Yuuri’s turn to gasp.

[Professor Katsuki: NO THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT]

[Collective Son: But it’s better than Stamina Prince!!!]

[Professor Katsuki: …you got me there.]

Yuuri’s face is hot red with embarrassment, regretting giving Kenjirou the responsibility and opportunity of changing his name. Phichit lets out a little snort from across the table, then lets out a loud laugh, which calms down after a few minutes. “Yuuri…I’m so happy.”

“What are you happy about?” Yuuri asks in disbelief, thinking that his statement is a little out of the blue.

“You’re finally talking to the rest of the crew. I mean, you talk to them, but 99% of the time it’s always about dance or practice time or changes in our location for practice. But this is different. It makes me really happy,” Phichit grins. “The others really respect you and want to become your friend as well, so showing interest like this, I’m sure the others are really excited.”

Yuuri is speechless at what Phichit has just said. _Me? Respected? But...why? It’s not like I’m that great or anything. I’m just another member of the crew._ He thinks more about what Phichit said as he goes back to doing his homework, the chat having died down for the night. He loses track of time as both of them eventually focus on their work, but he knows he has to tell Phichit about his plans sooner or later.

“...Hey, Phichit?” Yuuri taps the end of his pen against the table, glancing up at Phichit.

“Mm?”

“I’m meeting Victor again on Friday,” Yuuri says, more as a heads up on his whereabouts. Phichit was worried about him last time, so Yuuri wants to make sure that he knew where he was this time around.

“What?!” Phichit grins in surprise. “He asked you out again?!” His wording makes Yuuri blush, but Yuuri nods nonetheless. He isn’t necessarily wrong in saying that Victor asked him out, if considered in a literal sense. “That’s great! How much is he giving you this time?”

“P-phichit!”

“I mean, he _is_ going to give you money again, isn’t he? That’s the whole point, right?”

“Oh…,” Yuuri realizes that Phichit is perfectly right. “Well, yeah...I didn’t really say anything about needing money, so I guess it’s up to him…”

To tell the truth, Yuuri isn’t eager about getting money from Victor a second time. Neither Victor or Phichit know, but he hasn’t so much as looked at those extra three hundred dollars Victor gave him that night. They’re sitting safely in a pocket of his wallet, never to be touched unless he absolutely needs them. He has a feeling that Victor didn’t give him the extra money for his needs, but rather to buy anything he was craving, but he can’t do that so easily. In the end, he’s still used to keeping money for when he actually needs it.

“Okay!” says Phichit, then yawns. “I’m about to fall asleep though, these readings for Kafka aren’t really the easiest things to read after hours of dance practice. I might just head to bed now and read in the morning instead. Are you staying up?” Yuuri looks at the clock, and sees that it’s almost two in the morning. Just knowing the time makes him yawn. He starts class at a later time tomorrow, but he’s exhausted, so he nods at Phichit’s question. After they shuffle to gather their things, leaving their books on the table but reorganizing them so it doesn’t look as cluttered, both of them head to the bathroom.

They’re used to getting ready for bed together as if the process is a synced routine—brushing teeth side by side, taking turns washing their faces, and folding back the bed sheets of their respective twin beds together, saying goodnight and casually murmuring to each other until one of them falls asleep. But today, Yuuri is still distracted. Phichit decides not to point it out when Yuuri accidentally rinses out his mouth before actually brushing his teeth, and instead watches silently as Yuuri then moves on to put toothpaste on his toothbrush and wet the brush before starting to brush his teeth, Phichit doing the same next to him. The distant look in Yuuri’s eyes is more than obvious.

_“Ah..a-ahh! I’m…,” Yuuri gasps. The room around him is murky, his eyesight just making everything look like more of a blur. But the one thing that feels clear is Victor’s mouth, the warmth and wetness around his dick, consuming his thoughts. Yuuri can’t resist anymore—he doesn’t know what sounds are coming from his mouth or where his hands are anymore. All he knows is the pleasure washing over him. Victor pulls away, but Yuuri wants more. He’s not done yet. Thankfully, Victor doesn’t seem to be finished either._

_“That’s it, Yuuri. Just like that.”_

_Victor takes him in again, and Yuuri feels the tip of his cock go deeper and deeper, and suddenly the room is spinning, because Victor is sucking harder, moving faster, not giving Yuuri a chance to keep up as he holds Yuuri’s hips down. Yuuri loses his grip on his remaining sanity, a strangled cry piercing the room as a larger wave of pleasure puts his hair on end, his entire body shaking and his toes curling. The pit of heat in his stomach slowly unravels and winds down over the span of the next few moments, Yuuri riding out the aftershocks of his release and gasping for breath._

_His skin is tingling, and his chest is heaving. By the time his head stops spinning, he isn't sure how much time has passed. He feels soft kisses along his inner thighs, but Yuuri’s consciousness is slipping, unable to fully process what's going on. After what seems like an eternity, Yuuri finally opens his eyes again. The sight in front of him makes him dizzy again, and he wonders if he's had his eyes closed for so long that he's hallucinating—there's no way Victor just licked his lips while meeting Yuuri’s gaze, after pressing a kiss to the tip of his dick._

_Yuuri continues to watch Victor in a trance, eyes lidded as Victor moves on top of him again. The next events are murky. Victor’s hand reaches out, but Yuuri doesn't process whether it cups his cheek or treads through his hair. He doesn't know how to qualify Victor's expression—his eyesight is getting darker and less defined. The last thing he's aware of before drifting into slumber is the murmur of Victor’s voice, telling him to relax, and he does exactly that._

“How long are you going to stare at yourself in the mirror, Yuuri?” Phichit’s snicker snaps Yuuri back to reality. His toothbrush is still in his mouth, but he’s been staring off into space for a minute or two. Phichit pats his back consolingly as Yuuri’s face flushes and he finishes brushing his teeth, hastily rinsing his mouth. The rest of their bathroom routine goes as planned, Phichit not bothering to ask what Yuuri spaced out about. Yuuri figures that it’s either too late for him to care, or too obvious to beckon skepticism. Or both.

They both head to their shared bedroom, Yuuri getting into his bed first. The mattress is fairly comfortable, and after a long and exhausting day, it’s all the more alluring. Phichit shuts off the lights before heading to bed. They both scroll on their phones for a bit before putting them down on their shared bedside table.

“Good night, Yuuri,” Phichit yawns, about to go to sleep, but decides to check his phone again to make sure that their alarm for the morning is set, and that his volume is loud enough to actually wake them up. He knows that Yuuri can easily sleep through an alarm, and on some days he’s capable of doing the same. He also hopes tomorrow isn’t one of those days.

“Good night, Phichit,” Yuuri says back, before he turns around and faces the wall, exhaling softly and closing his eyes. He starts to think of everything that happened today. The messages, the mark on his skin…everything he thinks of is about Victor. It’s difficult not to think about him, considering all he did for Yuuri in the span of one night. But there’s something Yuuri hasn’t told anyone. No, something that he _wouldn’t_ tell anyone. Not because it was embarrassing or too shameful. He just isn’t sure that what happened after he fell asleep actually happened.

_When Yuuri opens his eyes to a plain white ceiling, he initially assumes he's in his apartment. The room is dark, minimal light filtering through the window. It’s only when he turns his head to the right, spotting an unfamiliar analog clock that reads 3:15 a.m., that he realizes where he is. Slowly, the memories start to come back. The moonlight, Victor’s hands, the money, Victor’s lips, the bed, Victor’s tongue, the bed sheets…_

Victor. _Yuuri sits up, rubbing his eyes. Victor isn’t in the room, and the entire hotel room is eerily silent._ Did he...leave?

 _Yuuri doesn’t want to check. After all, if Victor is really gone, it means he didn’t enjoy what he did with Yuuri. The more he thinks about it, the more understandable it seems_ _—_ _after all, Yuuri was the only one who came. He didn’t even so much as touch Victor. However, he can’t just go back to sleep without knowing whether Victor decided to stay or not. So, once a few seconds pass, he pulls the bed sheets off and stands from the bed, making his way over to the dresser near the foot of the bed and taking his glasses. When he puts them on, he notes that they’re cleaner than he remembers. It could also be his half-awake state making him think that, though._

_He walks over to the bathroom, getting a bathrobe and slipping it on. He doesn’t feel awake enough to put on his formal wear. He wanders through the bedroom and bathroom, already knowing Victor isn’t in either of those areas. That only leaves the living room._

_The living room is also eerily silent. Everything seems untouched, motionless, silent. Even the white blinds covering the windows of the living room are completely still. Yuuri feels more isolated in that moment than he has in a while. He doesn’t mean to, but he bites his lip when he assumes the worst, not knowing what to do._ Victor left me here without a word...he just wanted my body, but I couldn’t even return the favor…

_Then, Yuuri hears it. The trace of a voice. The same voice he’s been hearing all evening. And as he looks in the direction of the noise, he realizes that he hasn’t been looking at a window, but a glass door. A door leading to a balcony._

_Silently, Yuuri approaches the white blinds, and once he’s close enough, he pushes the blinds a few inches to the side, getting a glimpse of the view. He’s used to seeing skyscrapers flooded in light, so when that isn’t the case, it’s a bit out of place to Yuuri. However, that only makes the figure sitting in a lounge chair on the balcony more obvious._ Victor…?

_He’s talking on the phone with someone, and although he isn’t facing Yuuri, he can tell that a relaxed smile is on Victor’s face because of the light coming from his phone. The balcony door is cracked open a few inches, a soft breeze of cold air filtering into the living room, and Yuuri does his best to try to understand what Victor is saying, but he’s still only half awake. Anything Victor says is heard, and heard only. Yuuri can’t retain more than a few words in his mind, and by the time he’s taking in new words, he’s forgotten the old ones. All he can really feel is the freshness of the air outside, the breeze flowing into the room, the cold air tickling Yuuri’s bare legs and partially exposed chest due to the robe’s folds—_

_Yuuri sneezes. Time seems to stop for several seconds, his eyes glued to Victor, who’s stopped talking. Who’s turned his head to look at Yuuri. Who’s now standing, murmuring something into his phone before hanging up and locking his phone. Who’s calmly walking over to Yuuri, stepping back into the living room and closing the balcony door behind him._

_“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” he faces Yuuri again as he closes the blinds. “Do you need anything?” He smiles softly, just like he was on the phone just now._

_Yuuri simply shakes his head slightly, finally processing something Victor says. “I’m okay...um...are you okay?” He may be half asleep, but he remembers enough to make his cheeks redden at the memory of what they did together. Or rather, what Victor did for him._

_Victor’s smile widens just the right amount to make Yuuri feel more comfortable. “I’m great. Are you hungry? Do you want to take a shower? Or would you rather go back to sleep?”_

_Another yawn from Yuuri is a sufficient answer, and Victor chuckles a bit before putting a hand on the Yuuri’s back, leading him back to bed. Yuuri’s memory is hazy at this point again. He knows he keeps the robe on as he crawls under the covers, laying down on his stomach with his face in the pillow, but doesn’t know whether Victor gets in with him or not. He feels exhaustion take over again, and before he nods off, murmurs a soft “goodnight”. The last thing he feels is a soft caress of his hair, and the last thing he hears is a softer, smoother “goodnight” in return._

Yuuri doesn’t—no, he _can’t_ forget the way Victor touched him in that moment. There were so many different ways he touched Yuuri that day, but the feeling of his hand against Yuuri’s hair was inexplicably gentle. The same positive energy he felt from Victor in the middle of the night flowed into the next morning, when Victor ordered room service for them and they ate breakfast in the living room with the local news on. It was still difficult for Yuuri to make conversation, but Victor was, if possible, even more comfortable around him now. And now, he’ll have more opportunities to talk with Victor. He’ll have a chance to experience Victor’s touches again, and return the favor as well.

 _He wants to see me again._ Yuuri feels his chest tighten.

_He really wants to see me again._


	4. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/6: I’ll be studying in Tokyo from September to next July, and I'm super excited!! If I arrive in Japan early enough, I might be able to catch the last few days of Yuri!!! on Museum! If anyone would like to go together, that would be rad! :3 - Rui
> 
> 6/14: If you’re planning to go to Anime Midwest, I’m really excited to announce that I will be doing a YOI panel with some friends! :D It’s called “Gettin’ Hot off the Ice!”. It’s an 18+ Truth or Dare panel! Panel room 5, 7/9/2017, 1AM-2:20AM! Catch me as everyone’s favorite Thai boy. <3 - Rui
> 
> 6/16: I’m finally graduating today! In a few days time, I’ll be going to Japan for 10 days with a host family, and I might have a chance to visit the Yuri on Ice cafe while I’m there! Without a doubt, I won’t be writing daily, but I have to find something to do on the 11+ hour flight to Tokyo and back… -Alexia
> 
> 6/16: It’s my 20th birthday soon… I’m going to become an ossan. - Rui (p.s. Ossan is old man in Japanese - Alexia) (anyone who already follows my twitter already knows my unabashed love for ossans LOL - Rui)
> 
> As always, an extra big thanks to Derbs, our beta, for help with proofreading! This is our longest chapter yet, more than 18k, and it took all her willpower not to speed read since she is one of our biggest fans. Our reception has also grown beyond our wildest dreams, with over 2100 kudos, 550 bookmarks and 21k hits. Every time we get a new comment, we throw a small party where it’s just the two of us screaming at each other about what you guys say, so by all means, even if we don’t reply to all messages, be aware that we’ve screamed over all of them LOL  
> Part of chapter 3 has been edited to more accurately reflect what kind of information that would be available to Yuuri regarding Victor’s profession, which occurs when he’s on the website for Victor’s company. It’s not a drastic change, but we do like accuracy, so if you want to check it out you can do that.  
> If you want to reach out to us through social media, both Rui and I (Alexia) use Twitter more often—we’ve given permission for someone to do a cosplay video based on our fic as well as had some fanart drawn for us by the same person we gave links to in the previous chapter’s AN, and as writers that’s pretty much the pinnacle of our existence, we can die happy now <3 (after finishing this of course). If anyone wants to contact us through twitter, Rui’s handle is @katsudongs and mine is @NeedMatcha !
> 
> https://twitter.com/sopesudds/status/863765421563944961 Art for chapter 3!! Best scene to draw. xD  
> Also, be sure to check out LSP cosplay @lspcosplay on twitter, they’ve done some Victuuri cosplay and it’s absolutely adorable, they’re the ones that asked about making a video and we’re so excited to see what they have in store!
> 
> Without further ado… Chapter 4!

“Hey, Phichit? Can you come here?” Yuuri calls out from their bedroom. Phichit walks in from the kitchen and finds Yuuri standing by their closet, wearing only dress pants. He can immediately tell from Yuuri’s furrowed brow and distracted gaze that he’s nervous. It isn’t hard to think of a reason why.

“What is it?”

“Can you help me pick what I should wear? I’m…I’m pretty stumped,” Yuuri breathes out. He’s incredibly nervous, anxious that even the slightest thing will make Victor upset, even though he already made it clear during their first meeting that Yuuri should just be himself. The suggestion is hard to take in, at least for Yuuri.

“Why don’t you just wear what you wore last time? That’s technically the only formal wear you have, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to show up in the same clothes,” Yuuri grimaces, both at the idea of showing up in the same outfit and the fact that he’s worrying so much about something he normally doesn’t care about. “I trust your sense of fashion more than my own...do you have any suggestions?”

Phichit’s eyes light up at the opportunity to dress up his best friend. “Just leave it to me, Yuuri! So, what’s the occasion? Did Victor tell you where you’re going tonight?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says as he passes Phichit his phone so that Phichit can see the message Victor sent to him that morning. He got it in the middle of one of his morning classes, and he knows that during the lecture he got a few stares from students sitting close by that saw how red his face became. The message wasn’t even suggestive in a sexual sense.

[Good morning, Yuuri. I hope you’re looking forward to meeting tonight. I have a reservation for two at The Signature Room at the 95th at 6:00PM. My chauffeur will come pick you up around 5:30. The attire isn’t as strict as Everest, so don’t worry about it too much.]

“...Yuuri, it says right here that you don’t have to worry about it." 

“Yeah, and things like that make me worried,” Yuuri sighs. Phichit pats his back lightly in consolation.

“Well, that’s why I’m here!” he smiles, and walks into the closet, looking around for things that Yuuri can wear. “How about these, instead of your dress pants?” Phichit pulls out a pair of dark wash jeans. “95th isn’t as formal, so you should wear some casual clothing.”

Yuuri shakes his head, his nervousness driving his thoughts. “But what if he shows up in a suit again? I can’t just show up in jeans, it wouldn’t make a good impression…,” Yuuri trails off. 

“Okay, you can keep your dress pants. But we should still go for something more casual. Hm...how about just wearing a plain shirt, like one of your white v-necks?” Phichit walks over to a drawer and pulls out one of the folded shirts from one of the neat piles before handing it over to Yuuri, noting the slight skepticism in Yuuri’s eyes. Nevertheless, Yuuri slips the shirt over his head and smoothes it out, taking a deep breath. The shirt is comfortable and light, but he knows he can’t just wear his dress pants and shirt alone.

“I think this will work,” decides Yuuri. “And then I guess I’ll just wear my suit jacket on top, and it’ll be fine, right?” 

“Yeah, that’s good enough! Try everything on! And if it doesn’t fit to your liking, maybe we can slick back your hair, like you do for performances!” 

“Phichit, no, I can’t do that,” Yuuri panics a bit. He knows that the longer his hair gets, the more difficult it is to style his hair that way, and his hair has been getting a bit too long for his liking. He wishes he’d gone to cut it sometime during the week instead of waiting until the last minute and then regretting it. If he tries to style it that way now, it’ll end up looking messy more than anything. Although it’s conventional and plain, his normal style is the best thing he can go with right now. He’s never had slicked back hair with his glasses still on, either, and he doesn’t want to risk that look now of all times. He’d rather play it safe than gamble and make a bad impression on Victor.

“Well, you gotta do something!”

“Since when did you become my personal stylist?” Yuuri frowns.

“Since you became a sugar baby. And, um, since you asked me to? Anyway. I can do your eyeliner for you!” Phichit runs to the bathroom, ready to get take out his makeup bag.

“That isn’t necessary!!” Yuuri yells as he follows Phichit.

“Then, how about some really subtle lipstick?!” Phichit continues to offer with a sparkle in his eyes, excitedly taking everything out of the bag and placing it all across the counter, much to Yuuri’s dismay. He never knows how Phichit is able to fit all of the products he owns in the small pouch he has. 

“Phichit.”

“What?”

“Last time you experimented on me, you put on lipstick that was a bright red! It took over half an hour to get it all off!” 

“That was one time, though!” 

“Yeah, and I know your lipstick collection, so I’m not trusting you on this one. Next thing I know, you’ll put purple lipstick on me!”

Phichit freezes, then proceeds to quietly put the purple lipstick he bought a week ago back into the bag. “...Got me there.”

Yuuri continues. “If I’m not careful, you’ll end up going all out with eyeshadow and blush!”

“I mean…I’ve always thought blue eyeshadow would look good on you,” Phichit jokes—at least, Yuuri hopes it’s just a joke. 

“Phichit, no!”

“But it would look so good! Come on! One day, soon! Please!” Phichit begs Yuuri. _Yep. Not a joke._

Yuuri bites his lower lip, thinking about Phichit’s offer for a few moments. Makeup really doesn’t call out to him. Sure, he tends to put some on for shows, but dance shows are completely different occassions, and he doesn’t even apply any heavy makeup. Phichit, on the other hand, is less than ashamed to flaunt his collection whenever he can. It’s something Yuuri found strange about Phichit at first, but now he’s come to accept it, seeing as it’s a harmless habit—and Phichit is surprisingly skilled at it anyway.

 _Is Victor into that kind of stuff…?_ Yuuri wonders to himself. _Would he ever ask me to put on makeup? He doesn’t seem like the type...but I haven’t even known him for more than a day yet. I really have no idea. If he asked me to.._.

“...If the date calls for it,” Yuuri finally decides, although slightly reluctant about it. “Although I don’t see why I wo—”

“Heck yeah!” Phichit exclaims, not caring about the rest of what Yuuri has to say.

“And that’s assuming he’ll still want to meet up with me after tonight…” Yuuri sighs as he looks in the bathroom mirror. He brushes some strands of hair out of his face, then turns to Phichit. “Should I get my hair cut soon? It’s been getting long.” 

“It’s really cute long like that, but if you want to get it cut, then yeah!” Phichit gives him a thumbs up. “Also, that white v-neck looks good on you. I wonder who told you to wear that!” Phichit teases, trying to pull Yuuri out of his nervousness.

“Haha…thank you for helping me, Phichit. Do I really look okay, just like this?” He steps away from the mirror to turn to Phichit, deciding that his own perception of himself isn’t as trustworthy as his best friend’s opinion.

“Yeah,” Phichit smiles. “I think you look great.”

Yuuri smiles back, a little bit of his nervousness washing away from Phichit’s compliments and jokes. “I’ll just go get my jacket and I’ll wait for the chauffeur in the living room.”

Yuuri walks back to their shared bedroom and picks up the jacket that’s splayed out on the bed. Realizing it’s the last article of clothing he needs before his outfit is complete, he reaches into the pocket of his pants to make sure it was still there.

The remaining $300. 

 _It’s not like I could take it with a clear conscience in the first place…_ Yuuri sighs. _He told me to indulge in the gifts he gave me, but $300 is really…just too much._ Yuuri puts the jacket on, continuing to think to himself as he pulls his arms through the sleeves. _Especially for someone as plain and boring as me. He could have another use for it instead of just wasting it on me._

As Yuuri finishes slipping the jacket on, he forces himself to take a deep breath. He knows that if he starts over-thinking while he’s with Victor, their relationship will definitely take a turn for the worse. That’s the last thing he wants. He needs to make decisions with a clear head, especially when he’s with Victor, and he can’t afford to lose control mentally before they’ve physically seen each other a second time. Fortunately, as Yuuri walks into the living room, Phichit exits the bathroom, and they head to the living room together, Yuuri thankful for his presence. If not for him, he most likely would have lost his mind by now. As it is, he’s still a nervous wreck, hoping the chauffeur will get to their apartment earlier than scheduled.

“What time is it?” Yuuri turns to Phichit and asks, taking a shaky breath. He knows what time the chauffeur is coming, but that doesn’t help to calm his nerves—if anything, it just makes him more nervous, feeling an urge to check the time every five seconds. “Is it getting late?”  
  
“You’re fine, Yuuri,” Phichit pats his back, then sits on the couch and takes out his phone. “We have about five minutes before your chauffeur gets here. Come on, sit with me.”   
  
“Yeah…,” Yuuri takes up his offer, sitting next to him. “I feel like it’s taking forever…”   
  
“Excited?” Phichit taunts, but is surprised when Yuuri hesitates for a moment before nodding just slightly, so slightly that if Phichit wasn’t watching closely he wouldn’t have noticed. “Wow.”   
  
“I-it’s...maybe excited isn’t the right word…,” Yuuri begins, twiddling his fingers as Phichit unlocks his phone. “But this is my chance to get to know more about him...and this time around, I’m a little more prepared to meet him…”   
  
“So your goal is to not pass out after he gives you a blowjob?” Phichit laughs a bit, to which Yuuri turns beet red, silently pushing up his glasses before speaking.

“I’m not answering that.”

“I’m taking that as a yes, then,” Phichit decides with a grin, then opens up Safari. “By the way, what hotel did you guys go to?”  
  
“Ah...Waldorf Astoria,” Yuuri murmurs after a moment of thought. “Why?”   
  
“Aren’t you curious to know how much that room cost?”   
  
“...I’d rather not know,” Yuuri admits with a nervous laugh. By this point, though, Phichit is already on the hotel’s website, browsing through the different types of rooms offered. “As it is, he paid my rent and—uh...”   
  
The sudden silence from Yuuri briefly catches Phichit’s attention. “And?”   
  
“A-and took me to dinner,” Yuuri continues, smiling awkwardly. He rarely keeps anything from Phichit, but considering he’s planning to return the three hundred dollars that Victor gave him—something he knows Phichit would be against—it’s to Yuuri’s benefit that he keeps that information to himself.

Phichit settles for Yuuri’s response with a small hum, albeit a bit skeptically. “Still, it’s cool to know. Hey, which room looks like the one you stayed in?”

Yuuri leans in as Phichit turns his phone toward him. As Phichit’s finger flicks across the screen vertically, his eyes scan over the different layouts of rooms and furniture. “Ah...that one,” Yuuri points as Phichit scrolls over a certain room. The picture makes Yuuri’s face heat up slightly. He immediately recognizes it as the window that Yuuri was looking out of when Victor walked up behind him and started kissing his neck. Simply remembering that moment makes goosebumps rise on Yuuri’s arms, which are thankfully covered by his jacket. 

“Ah...the Astoria Suite,” Phichit declares with an accent, making Yuuri laugh a bit and push Phichit playfully. “Let’s see...one night, with breakfast…how much money did he spend at the restaurant?”

“I...have no idea,” Yuuri rubs the back of his neck, beginning to feel a bit of anxiety creep up on him. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's curious as well—just how much _did_ Victor spend on him? 

“So,” Phichit begins, then pauses. “Can you pull up your calculator?”

“...Fine,” Yuuri mumbles, unlocking his phone and preparing himself.

“How much for the clothes?”

“...A thousand.” He types the number in, waiting for his next cue. 

“I think a hundred dollars each for dinner is reasonable.”

“So...two hundred.” 

“Plus rent…”

“Two hundred…”

“And the hotel…a little over six hundred.”

Yuuri's fingers freeze. “...Uh…” 

“Yeah. Six hundred. Isn't that, like...how much we split between us each month for rent?”

Yuuri doesn't believe the four digits being displayed on the screen as he types in the last number and adds it up. Granted, that's nowhere near what he needs to pay per year to attend college, but…

“Are you sure, Phichit?” 

“Look,” Phichit holds out his phone to Yuuri, and there's no doubt left as Yuuri sees the rates. For a single night in the Astoria Suite, Victor paid what Yuuri has to pay for a month in his shared apartment. Six hundred dollars. Altogether, one night with Victor cost at least two thousand dollars. At least, that's what the numbers show—but the three bills in Yuuri's pocket suddenly feel much heavier. It's more than two thousand. Between Yuuri and Phichit, only he knows that.

“Shit...two thousand?” Yuuri mutters, looking at his phone and rechecking the numbers, but there isn't a single mistake to be found. He wishes there was. “That's so much...and I didn't even…”

“Yuuri,” Phichit calls out, knowing that Yuuri’s anxiety is spiking again. “He wanted to, remember? Besides, if he thought it was a waste of money, he wouldn't have asked to meet again.” 

“I know, but...he…,” murmurs Yuuri, biting his lip. Maybe it’ll be easier if he tells Phichit about the extra money from Victor. Well aware of Phichit’s eyes on him, Yuuri reaches into his pocket, but as his fingers brush against the bills, something doesn't feel right. In the end, he decides against it, taking his hand out of his pocket while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. Phichit gives him a questioning look either way, and Yuuri isn't sure what excuse to give him. “I, uh...was making sure I had something…”

“‘Something’?”

“...Yes…?”

“A condom?”

Yuuri stutters, face flushing a deep red. “N-no! Why would I…!?”

“Why not?” Phichit teases with a knowing smirk. Yuuri wishes he could answer that question without having a mental breakdown. But he knows that no matter what he says, if there’s anyone who knows just how lustful he got over Victor, it’s Phichit. There’s no way he can deny what he said at Everest when he nearly screamed into his phone in the bathroom. And to be completely honest...those feelings haven’t necessarily changed. He has a feeling Phichit knows that as well.

Thankfully, Yuuri’s phone vibrates a few moments later, a notification for the chauffeur flashing onto his screen, and he stands up. “I’m gonna get going, the car’s here.”

“Aw, I wanted to keep talking,” Phichit teases and sticks out his tongue.

“Then I _really_ have to get going,” Yuuri remarks with a small laugh.

“Text me when you get there?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nods and smiles a bit, waving at Phichit on his way out of the door. Once he’s by himself, he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. _Relax. Be yourself_ , he tells himself mentally, over and over again as he steps out of the building and goes down the stairs. A sense of déjà vu takes over as he sees the same vehicle, parked in the same place it was about a week ago, with the same driver. This time, though, Phichit isn’t by his side. Yuuri is completely on his own. If he messes up, it’ll be completely on him. Anything he does will fully be of his own doing. One wrong step and Victor may never want to see him again. He doesn’t want that. He needs to—

“Yuuri!”

At the sound of his name, Yuuri is brought out of his thoughts and into reality, turning around and seeing Phichit on the steps to their apartment. “Y-yes?”

“I just came down to say good luck!” Phichit grins and waves. “Not that you’ll need it.”

Phichit’s confidence only makes Yuuri get flustered all over again. “No, I’m pretty sure I’ll need all the luck I can get,” he responds, glancing over at the car. The chauffeur gets out of the driver’s side and walks over to the back, opening the door for Yuuri, and he knows he has to get going soon.

“Just remember my bet!”  
  
“Huh?” Yuuri tilts his head in confusion.

“If you come back and you’re not a virgin anymore, Leo owes me $20!” Phichit reminds him and winks.

“I thought you bet on my senior year?” Yuuri says in disbelief, just loud enough for Phichit to hear.

“After he found out you only got a blowjob, we switched positions,” remarks Phichit with a giggle. “He doesn’t know you’re meeting Victor again, though.” Within seconds, Yuuri becomes even more flustered, hoping that none of his neighbors can hear the exchange between them. “Let’s get more bubble tea with that money next week!"

“Oh my god, Phichit, you’re so embarrassing.” 

“That’s what I’m here for!”

Yuuri decides that continuing the conversation will only make him even more embarrassed in public, and he simply waves a bit before making a beeline for the car, grateful that the door is open for him already. The layout of the car already looks familiar to him despite it only being his second time inside it, and as he buckles his seatbelt and the door is closed by the chauffeur, he takes another deep breath, then jolts a bit as his phone vibrates. It’s a text from Phichit.

[If bubble tea and sex with the guy you’re lusting over isn’t enough incentive, I don’t know what is.]

Yuuri’s ears are burning as he replies one last time, deciding he’ll deal with Phichit’s response to his next text when he comes back.

[Even without bubble tea, I have enough incentive.]

He sends the message and immediately puts his phone on do not disturb to ignore whatever Phichit’s response will be. 

“Hello, Mr. Katsuki.”

The voice of the chauffeur abruptly brings Yuuri back to his senses, and all he can do at the moment is clear his throat and nod a bit, then come to a realization. “You know my last name…?" 

“Yes. Mr. Nikiforov told me your full name, so I’d like to refer to you like this. Is that alright with you?”

“Oh...yeah, that’s fine,” Yuuri murmurs and nods a bit, letting the new information soak into his mind. He wonders when, exactly, Victor told his chauffeur Yuuri’s full name. Just a few minutes ago? Right after they met? Once Yuuri and Victor went their separate ways? There’s no way to know for sure, but Yuuri has a feeling that he and the chauffeur will be seeing each other more often. Assuming Victor still wants to see him after tonight.

Yuuri wishes he had the confidence to believe that tonight will go better than the first time he met Victor. Not that the first time went terribly wrong, but considering what Victor paid him, he hardly thinks he gave his fair share of “company”. Moreover, Yuuri boldly asked Victor to pay his tuition when they were at the hotel. Part of his motivation to say it at that moment was the fact that he was aroused beyond belief by Victor, but the other part was the voice at the back of his head that had been nagging him about the possibility of Victor providing much more than a one-time rent payment. Yuuri can’t afford to let things continue the way they did last time. He has to take the initiative and prove to Victor that he’s worth the time and money of a handsome millionaire—if not a billionaire. Now that Yuuri thinks about it, it’s ridiculous for him to be overreacting over a small amount like $300 when his tuition, rent, and other expenses combined are much, much more expensive than that. If Victor does take up the offer of paying his tuition, he’ll be receiving several times more than that. Once again, he’s reminded of Phichit’s words. If Yuuri can’t fit into the role of a sugar baby, things won’t work out between him and Victor.

For a moment, Yuuri reconsiders returning the $300. After all, he can technically use it for the next rent payment. As he reaches into his back pocket, he sighs softly, then looks at the two individual hundred dollar bills in his hand, contemplating whether his choice to give them back is what would really make both him and Victor satisfied.

...Wait.

 _Two...two bills? T-that’s not right…_ Yuuri panics, trying to see if there’s an extra bill stuck to one of the other two. _No, he gave me three hundred...and I only have two hundred...oh god, did I drop a bill?_

“U-uh, excuse me,” Yuuri feels his anxiety bubbling up again, at a much faster pace than when he was with Phichit, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. “I-I need to…” 

“Yes, Mr. Katsuki?”

“Please...turn the car around. I forgot something,” Yuuri murmurs, feeling guilt consume him as he checks the time. It’s only twenty-five minutes until their reservation time, and Yuuri knows that at this rate he may not get there on time. Thankfully, the chauffeur seems to pick up on how nervous Yuuri is, not bothering to ask any questions. Instead, the chauffeur makes a turn, heading back on the same street, Yuuri drumming his fingers on the backseat. He has no idea where the extra bill may be, but he’s absolutely sure he won’t be able to face Victor until he can find it. It’s one thing to be given $300, and another to be given $300 and be so careless that you lose an entire third of it.

“Mr. Katsuki, we’re here,” the chauffeur suddenly announces, and Yuuri all but jumps out of the car, sprinting to the front door and unlocking it. His hands fumble with the keys to his apartment, but Phichit must be able to hear him, because in a matter of seconds Phichit is opening the door for him, and Yuuri makes a line straight for his room, panic consuming him.

“Yuuri? What happened?” Phichit questions in a concerned tone that only makes Yuuri feel even more guilty. Not only is he going to be late, but he’s making his best friend worry about him in the process. What’s more, he still hasn’t seen the missing money. What if he came back all for nothing? Just to find out that he’s even more irresponsible than he thought?

In a matter of seconds, Yuuri is frantically looking around his dresser and drawers, trying to find the missing hundred dollar bill. He checks his closet. The pockets of his jackets. The pockets of every single pair of jeans. His shirts. His socks. His boxers. With each second that passes, and with each attempt that he comes up empty-handed, his dread only grows, and he can feel time ticking away as he bites his lip in frustration. Given a few more minutes, he’s even gone through Phichit’s drawers in hopes that maybe he had displaced it there. However, there’s absolutely nothing. The drawer where he had put the three bills in the first place was devoid of cash, save for a few pennies in a corner his hand rarely ever wandered. He checks the pockets of his pants once again, feeling a lump in his throat as he comes up empty-handed. It’s the first time Yuuri has extra money on him, and the first thing he does after taking it out is lose part of it.

“What’s wrong, Yuuri?” Phichit says, now standing in the doorway. Yuuri knows there isn’t an escape now. He has to admit what’s going on. 

“I...I’m looking for some money I left behind.”

“Money? But you’re—”

“I know, I know,” Yuuri answers hastily. “Please, just...look for it with me?”

Phichit is silent for a moment, assessing Yuuri’s words and expression. Then he nods, and Yuuri sighs in relief. “How much are we talking about?”

“...A hundred.”

Phichit’s eyes widen, as expected of such a large sum. “You lost a hundred dollars? Wait, you had a hundred dollars on you in the first place? I thought you just had enough for rent?” 

“Please, Phichit, I’ll explain later,” Yuuri finishes looking in his room, his stomach doing somersaults. “Just check anywhere for a hundred dollar bill. I need to find it soon, or else I’ll meet up with Victor even later than I already am. Please.”

“...Alright,” Phichit nods again and leaves the doorway, and Yuuri hears him shuffling through papers on the kitchen table, looking for a singular bill worth so much to Yuuri.

 _I’m so stupid,_ Yuuri tells himself as he goes into the bathroom, already knowing the money can’t possibly be there. _How did I lose a hundred dollars? When did it even happen? It was in the pocket of my pants the whole time, wasn’t it? I had it in my drawer for almost a week_ . He walks down the small hallway leading into the living room, then heads straight for the kitchen, frantically checking every space possible—cabinets, drawers, the dish rack, under the table, on top of the chairs, behind the microwave, even inside the oven. Nothing. _Victor’s waiting for me...I can’t keep looking forever...what should I—_

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri realizes he was spacing out, clearing his throat and looking over at Phichit. He almost wants to cry at the sight of the bill in Phichit’s hand. “W-where did you…?”

“It was on the couch, in between one of the cushions. When did you even put it there?” Phichit wastes no time in passing over the bill once Yuuri walks over, noticing just how shaken up Yuuri has become. “Listen, I know you want to relax, but you said Victor is waiting to meet you at six, right? You only have ten minutes, Yuuri.”

“I-I know, I…,” Yuuri murmurs. He’s slowly being consumed by rage and frustration, all of it directed at himself, and if it was up to him, he would turn on the stove and burn the bill out of anger if it wasn’t so valuable. “I’ll explain later, I promise.”

“Don’t worry, Yuuri,” Phichit rubs his back. “Deep breath?”

Yuuri gulps, meeting Phichit’s reassuring gaze before taking his advice. His breath is shaky nonetheless, but his nerves seem to simmer down if only slightly with the breath he takes. Time is still ticking away, but now with the missing bill firmly in Yuuri’s hand, he definitely doesn’t feel as anxious anymore. All he needs to do now is meet Victor. He’ll think of an excuse on the way there. He just needs to leave. Now. 

“I’ll see you later, Phichit,” Yuuri gives him a wry smile, and Phichit closes the door as Yuuri nearly goes down the steps two at a time. He knows he’ll be late by now, so he’s just trying to minimize how much time is going to be lost. In the worst scenario, Victor will lose his reservation, they won’t have a place to eat, and Victor will leave him stranded to go home by himself. At the very least, Yuuri will completely ruin Victor’s plans. It isn’t as if he already hasn’t, with the large commotion he raised just now. He isn't eager to know what Victor will do once he sees him.

Maybe Victor will end things with him right then and there.

 _Stop_ , he tells himself, trying to clear his mind. He wishes he was more mentally sound today, but it seems as if his mind isn’t letting him get any time to himself in the near future. Today he’s continuously getting barraged by anxiety, crushing expectations, and how fast time is passing. If things are like this all the time, Yuuri isn’t sure he’ll be able to keep up.

He tries to distract himself with his phone once he’s in the car, murmuring an apology to the chauffeur, who responds calmly with an “it’s alright” before beginning to drive again. The frustration that nearly consumed Yuuri is just barely beginning to fade away, but unfortunately for him, it’s gradually being replaced by an even more ominous sense of dread. It starts once he unlocks his phone, seeing the time. Seven minutes until six. He ignores the texts from Phichit that he didn’t want to see after sending that last text. The problem isn't that he'll feel embarrassed by whatever Phichit’s response is—he just isn’t in the mood to joke around anymore. When Yuuri catches up with his Twitter feed, it’s three minutes until six, and he's nowhere near where he should be. He wonders what Victor could possibly be thinking right now. He doubts pleasure is one of the things he’s feeling. Maybe his age will serve as an excuse. _‘Of course Yuuri would be late,’_ Victor would think to himself. _‘What should I have expected from a college student? As it is, he was only a handful of minutes early to our first meeting. Why bother with a third one?’_

_Stop._

Yuuri locks his phone, biting his lip and closing his eyes. It’s dangerous to be alone with himself and his negative feelings. If there was a contest to see who could let their emotions take over their thoughts and reduce them into an anxiety-ridden mess the quickest, Yuuri figures he would win first place and break a world record in the process. But, regardless of what Yuuri is thinking, he knows what he wants—what he needs. And Yuuri isn’t sure if he should be assuming Victor’s feelings, but Victor made it clear enough to him through their first meeting that tuition and rent isn’t the only thing he’s capable of paying for.

 _‘It’s about indulging, about enjoying the finer things in life. During the duration of our relationship, I do plan on taking you on trips and spoiling you with a lot of gifts. If you thought the clothes earlier was too much, then you have a lot waiting in store.’_  

 _‘Sugar relationships usually last longer and entail more, but if you want to only meet once…I understand. I can still give you presents before our meeting tonight ends.’_  

Yuuri still remembers the slightly hurt tone of Victor’s voice when he turned down his idea on instinct, and he regrets not taking the offer right away when he could. Yuuri isn’t confident that Victor’s proposition is on the table anymore. 

As of right now, Victor is his only way to pay off his tuition and any other expenses that come along with living in Chicago as a dance student. He doesn’t like the concept of having to ask Victor for money, but it’s what their relationship entails. If that aspect wasn’t involved, it would simply be dating, but Yuuri didn’t download Sweet Meet with that goal in mind—regardless of how amazing it felt to spend the night in a hotel with him. Victor wants his company, and Yuuri needs Victor’s support for as long as possible, at least until he can find a better paying job than his previous one. Tonight, and possibly the next few minutes when he meets Victor, will determine if he wants to take on Yuuri’s burden.

It’s already five minutes past six by the time Yuuri recognizes the path they’re on after looking up from his phone. Relief washes over him, seeing the building in sight, ready to text Victor.

And then, the chauffeur stops.

 _What…?_ Yuuri scoots forward in his seat, looking at what could be holding him back, and his heart drops to his stomach when he sees the crowd of cars in front of him, the glare of the sun reflecting off the hoods of the cars and making the sight in front of him all the more intimidating.

“It looks like there was an accident up ahead,” the chauffeur states with all the calmness that’s disappeared from Yuuri. “A fairly recent one, too. I know a detour we can take, though. It’ll leave you right at the main entrance.”

“...O-okay,” Yuuri says, but he can’t hide how meek his response sounds, accurately expressing how he feels at the moment. If Victor isn’t at least disappointed by now, he definitely will be when Yuuri gets to the John Hancock building at least ten minutes over their reservation time.

It turns out that Yuuri underestimates the power of rush hour traffic in downtown Chicago. Seconds and then minutes tick away, and Yuuri’s dread only grows. When they’ve barely traveled two blocks, it’s twenty minutes past six. The reservation may have had potential to be saved fifteen minutes ago, but now it’s close to impossible, if not already cancelled. If not for Yuuri… 

With a shaky exhale, Yuuri opens up Sweet Meet, going over to his conversation with Victor. The text from the morning is still there, the reservation time looking him in the face, mocking him. What can he say that won’t make it seem like the situation is up in flames? How can he excuse the fact that he’s irrevocably, inexcusably late?

[I’m so sorry.]

Yuuri turns off his phone after sending the message, spending the next few minutes in silence. The traffic is slightly better, but even the glare of the sun on the surrounding skyscrapers is unable to wipe away what Yuuri saw at the the top of his phone screen, telling him the current time.

6:25.

If not for the fact that the chauffeur found a smaller path to go down in that moment, Yuuri would have probably gotten out of the car and taken public transportation back home. It takes a few more minutes to find the main entrance, but when he does, Yuuri thanks the chauffeur approximately ten times in a row, not even bothering to have the chauffeur open the door for him but getting out and closing the door himself instead. He’s pretty sure the chauffeur tries to say something to him as he gets out, but he’s too busy getting out, his inner thoughts are flooding him and blocking out anything else but the main entrance to the building, and he sees the flash of familiar gray under the sunlight near the doors, feeling both relief and dread at the same time.

Yuuri frantically runs over to Victor, who’s standing in front of the John Hancock’s doors, with a slightly irritated look on his face—it doesn’t take away from how handsome he looks, however. Victor is wearing black dress pants, a burgundy dress shirt, and a black vest with a black tie, the sleeves of the dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. Yuuri’s worries are momentarily expelled for all the wrong—or right—reasons. _He’s so attractive fully dressed, he’s so attractive half naked, he’s thirty-five years old, and he’s definitely way too hot for his own good_ , Yuuri nearly screams to himself.

But the look on Victor’s face makes him uneasy, because he knows that the fact that Yuuri is half an hour late is the reason why he’s frowning ever so slightly. 

“I-I’m sorry I’m late!” Yuuri customarily bows once he gets close enough to Victor to talk without it seeming awkward, or less awkward than it already is. He tries to come up with a vague excuse, hoping Victor will take it and be satisfied for now. He doesn’t need to tell him about the fact that he almost misplaced Victor’s money indefinitely. Not right now. “I had forgotten something at home, and we had to turn around…” 

“It’s okay, Yuuri,” Victor responds almost immediately with a smile, but Yuuri can tell it’s somewhat forced. “Let’s head in, no?” he asks, reaching his hand out to him. Unfortunately, the motion goes unnoticed by Yuuri, who begins to walk toward the doors. “Yuuri?”

“Y-yes?” answers Yuuri before turning around, and his face burns when he sees that Victor is holding his hand out towards him.

“Oh...did you not want to?” Victor’s brows furrow slightly, and it’s the only signal Yuuri needs to internally panic. 

“O-oh, no—I mean, not ‘no’, but...oh god, I’m sorry,” Yuuri apologizes and bows again out of instinct, feeling as if he’s making a scene in front of hundreds of people walking down the street, boarding the bus, and traveling in their cars. “I didn’t see your hand…”

Yuuri realizes that this feels just like the first time they met. Yuuri is stumbling over words, nearly stumbling over himself, pointing out all of his mistakes while testing Victor’s patience, and he finds himself increasingly frustrated. It’s as if he hasn’t made any progress with Victor even after spending a night together with him. What was it all for, then? Was Yuuri even worth Victor’s time?

“Yuuri,” Victor’s voice interrupts his thoughts, but Yuuri is only put more on edge by the hint of impatience in Victor’s voice. “Let’s head inside, alright?”

“Yeah...okay,” Yuuri agrees, nodding a bit and breaking eye contact with Victor. He wishes the atmosphere between them could be less awkward, even if it is his fault that things are like this in the first place. Silently, Yuuri approaches the revolving doors and makes his way in, Victor going in behind him—but once he steps out, the sight in front of him stops him in his tracks.

Yuuri finds himself at a loss for words while looking at the structure in front of him. The lobby is spacious, with a high gray ceiling, a gray and white tiled floor, and white walls with the exception of the opposite side of the lobby from the entrance—it contains the elevators, and instead of conforming with the rest of the lobby’s walls, is made from a shining wood. Two sets of four burgundy lounge chairs align the wall to the left, each set grouped around a low glass coffee table with a small flower arrangement placed on the center each table. The placement and atmosphere of the lobby, however, only makes the main attraction stand out all the more.

It takes a few moments for Yuuri to process the structure laid out before his eyes. On the ground is an elevated, ovalesque marble platform, and a smooth black cover is built within the platform that reflects the view above. As Yuuri’s eyes travel in that direction, he sees that there are small wires, a large sphere, and hundreds, if not thousands, of small, luminescent orbs seemingly hanging in midair. At first everything seems a bit disjointed, but after a few more seconds Yuuri notices that the small wires all seem to protrude from the larger sphere in the center of the ceiling. It explains why the countless smaller orbs are placed in a manner that is central to the larger, glowing one. As Yuuri steps closer, he sees that there are, in fact, small lights within each orb, and not a single one is different from the other. He does see, however, that some are meticulously placed—at times, there are noticeable gaps between each orb, while other orbs are nearly touching due to their proximity. Though asymmetrical, each orbs’ placement seems to have some sort of method to it, although Yuuri doesn’t quite know what that method is. The sculpture as a whole appears to go through the ceiling, but as someone walks by Yuuri sees their reflection in the large, oblique mirror in the middle of the ceiling, and realizes that what looks like a complete sphere is really only half of one, even if his mind won’t accept it.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Victor’s voice is suddenly close to Yuuri, and although they’re standing in the lobby of a building filled with all types of people coming and going, Yuuri feels as if this moment is one shared by only him and Victor. “Each glass orb was handmade. I believe it’s supposed to look like the constellations that are visible to the human eye, assuming the large orb in the center is the Earth. It’s breathtaking.”

“...Yeah,” murmurs Yuuri, wishing he could better explain his emotions but knowing that words won’t suffice in doing so. He hopes the tone of his voice does a better job of portraying his awe.

“I would admire it a bit longer, but...,” starts Victor, and his hand is on Yuuri’s back again, reminding Yuuri of all those moments when Victor made contact with him during their first meeting, except this means much more than a touch. It shows the bond that they’ve made, one that only they know. One that Yuuri has jeopardized. One that can be easily broken. “We don’t want to be any more late than we already are.”

Yuuri knows that statement isn’t meant to make him feel guilty, but he can’t help feeling that way, and for obvious reasons. He nods a bit, and they walk over to the elevators, Victor pressing the button to go up. There’s an atmosphere of anticipation between them, Yuuri wanting to apologize again but knowing that it won’t change anything at this point—in reality, just wanting to say anything at all—and just as he musters the courage to open his mouth, the elevator doors open, and Victor motions for him to go in first. Yuuri manages a small smile before walking in with Victor following, knowing that it probably looks as fake as it feels.

“Hello. Will you be going to the 95th or 96th floor tonight?” the man in the elevator asks. 

“The 95th floor, please,” Victor responds.

The elevator goes up at a fast pace, too fast for Yuuri to try to leave off where he was about to start in the lobby, and not even a minute later, they’re already stepping out. Victor heads over to the front desk, Yuuri trailing behind him, and once the man at the front desk looks for their reservation and sees just how late they are—Yuuri decides to turn away at that moment, not wanting to see the kind of expressions that either Victor or the man behind the desk is making—Victor immediately explains to them that they had a reservation, but ran a few minutes late.

“Yuuri.”

The sudden attention on him makes Yuuri’s mind blank, but he tries to answer to Victor without further embarrassing himself. “Y-yes?”  
  
“Would you mind sitting down?”

“Sitting…?” Yuuri murmurs, then follows Victor’s line of sight to the wooden chair next to a small table. “Oh, yeah...sure.”

Yuuri doesn’t know why, but as he takes a seat he can’t help feeling as if he was put to the side, made separate from whatever is going on between Victor and the employee.

It doesn’t help when, a few seconds later, Victor and the man begin to speak in more hushed tones, barely able to be heard by Yuuri, and he definitely knows that they’re talking about him. Yuuri is trying to focus on something else, the floor, the clatter of silverware on plates in the distance, the large selection of wines on the wall to his left, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the large and intricate pillars, the staircase leading up to the next floor, anything but the way their voices leave him in suspense, but it’s difficult not to when he knows that he’s the subject of their conversation. Even if they do manage to get a table, Yuuri figures that Victor will be paying more money to do so, and Yuuri knows that fact will be gnawing away at his thoughts the entire time they’re eating. If they’re turned away, how will he face Victor? Where will they go? Would they even be going together?

“Yuuri. Let’s go.”

The statement makes Yuuri freeze, and he assumes the worst as Victor walks over to him, extending his hand. He has even less reason to think he deserves Victor’s hand now, so he simply stands up by himself, ready to leave. “Where...where are we going now?” Yuuri murmurs, too afraid to look him in the eye.

“They found a table for us. He’s going to show us the way. Come on, Yuuri.”

_...A table?_

“You...we have a table?” Yuuri murmurs in disbelief, finally looking up to meet Victor’s eyes. They’re unreadable, and it only makes the situation more confusing. “But...I got here so late…”

“It isn’t the table I originally had a reservation for,” Victor explains, moving closer to place his hand on Yuuri’s back once again. “Luckily, they just cleared up a table, and I managed to convince them to give it to us.” 

Yuuri instantly knows what he means by convincing. Money. Money that didn’t have to be spent, if not for Yuuri.

“...Okay,” says Yuuri, unable to come up with a proper apology. To be completely honest, a simple apology won’t suffice at this point, after having caused so much trouble for Victor. _I can’t make things any more complicated now. I can’t mess up. I need to make it up to him._

They’re lead to their table by the man at the front desk, a window seat overlooking the lake. However, Yuuri doesn’t want to place any more burdens on Victor than he already has, so he makes it to his seat before Victor can, pulling out the chair himself. He sees that Victor hesitates, standing by his side for a moment, but eventually sits across from him, not saying anything. The restaurant is a bit warm for Yuuri, so he takes off his suit jacket before sitting down, folding it and placing it on the back of his chair. Once he’s situated and water has been poured into both of their glasses, Yuuri inhales and exhales slowly, doing his best to relax. They have a table. They have a view. Victor hasn’t given up on Yuuri yet. 

Now, Yuuri has to be perfect.

Their waitress comes over and greets them, handing them menus. Yuuri takes his while murmuring a thanks, but doesn't open it up until Victor opens his. Yuuri can see Victor’s eyebrow furrow a bit, and notices that Victor is a bit more quiet than usual—usual being more quiet than he was during their first meeting, which isn’t much of a standard to go by, considering most of it consisted of Yuuri staring into Victor’s eyes with little to no shame. _Is he mad…?_ Yuuri examines Victor’s face a bit more, wishing he was better at reading expressions. If Phichit was there, he would probably have Victor figured out in a matter of seconds. It isn’t as if Yuuri is completely devoid of social cues, but he just doesn’t have the fine tuning that Phichit has when it comes to socializing. _Is he sulking…?_

Deciding to give up for the moment, Yuuri looks down to his now-opened menu, not exactly knowing what he wants. What Victor said last time, however, resonates in his mind. _‘You can have anything you want.’_ Should he just let Victor order for him again? Or should he take charge of what he eats this time? Yuuri takes closer look at the menu, preparing himself for whatever he sees and hoping that something in the menu will stand out to him. In a good way.

First, he skims over the seafood and specialty entrées. _Seared sea scallops…seafood risotto…seared lamb chops…_ The list seems to go on forever, making Yuuri’s mouth water as his eyes travel over to the prices.

There’s nothing less than $30—effectively making his mouth go dry.

His grip on the menu tightens slightly, and he silently prays that there are appetizers or sides for less. But after seeing that all of the appetizers are $15 or more and all the sides are at least $10, when the only sides and appetizers Yuuri has ever consumed haven’t been more than $5, he inwardly grimaces, thinking about Phichit’s calculations from earlier. All of that money, being used on him. Just thinking about how much money Victor will potentially spend on him today, and for the rest of their contingent sugar relationship, makes him want to hurl right then and there.

Maybe his own decision is out of the question for now.

He decides that he’ll let Victor choose for him again, hoping Victor will just order him a soup or something not as pricey as half of the things on the menu. He looks up to Victor for a moment, and can tell that Victor is _still_ sulking. Yuuri clears his throat lightly.

“Um…Victor? Are you okay?” he asks. There’s a moment of awkward silence before Victor registers the fact that Yuuri just talked to him.

“Huh? Oh…yes, I’m alright,” Victor responds with a small smile. “Sorry, I’m just looking over the menu to see what I’d like to order.”

“Oh…I see,” Yuuri plainly responds. _Well, if he doesn’t know what he wants to order, I can’t ask him to order the same for me yet. Attempt to talk to him, number one: failed._

This is unknown territory to Yuuri. Their first meeting had been, disregarding Yuuri’s awkwardness and initially shy nature, much less stagnant than their second one currently is, and Yuuri has no idea why things are the way they are right now. Well, except for the fact that he arrived at the John Hancock building half an hour late. Maybe that’s reason enough. What he can’t figure out is how Victor could be so prodding and intrusive during their first meeting, then suddenly withdrawn and detached the next. If it is simply because of Yuuri, it only makes him feel more guilty. But he doesn’t know enough about Victor in the first place to be able to assume something like that.

After a few more moments, Yuuri accepts the fact that he won’t be able to read the mind of the man in front of him. Instead, he sits there quietly, watching Victor frown at the menu for a little bit more. Then, Yuuri closes his menu and places it back on the table. That, at least, Victor notices.

“Have you already decided what you want, Yuuri?" 

“Um…,” Yuuri starts. “Not exactly…I was hoping to order what you were going to get, since I don’t know exactly what I want…or, if you want, I’ll let you order for me…” Yuuri feels like he’ll trip over his words if he isn’t careful enough. He doesn’t want Victor to be in a worse mood than he already seems to be, for reasons Yuuri is unaware of.

“Oh, I see,” Victor says. “If you’d like, we can both order the fourteen-ounce New York strip steak. That’s what I was planning on ordering.”

“That sounds good,” Yuuri says without much thought before he looks down at the menu again to see the description. _Natural reduction. What does that mean?_ He wants to ask, but also doesn’t want to fill up his and Victor’s conversation with subjects that Victor will easily know are just to pass the time. Yuuri closes his menu and places it on top of Victor’s, and sees in the distance that the waitress seems to catch onto their cue in a matter of seconds. 

The waitress comes over, breaking the silence between Victor and Yuuri. “Have you decided on what you’d like tonight?” 

Victor responds in the affirmative and then begins to order by announcing what they want as their main course, and for a fraction of a second Yuuri sees potential in their situation. Things can still make a turn for the better. Once the food comes, they’ll be more relaxed.

Today, however, the entire world seems to be plotting against Yuuri Katsuki.

“Oh…,” the waitress starts. “We sincerely apologize, but that particular menu item is currently unavailable. Is there anything else that may interest you?”

Yuuri decides to meet Victor’s eyes in that moment, and for once he can tell what Victor’s expression is portraying. Both he and Victor are completely clueless about what to do now. 

“U-um…,” Yuuri begins, hastily flipping through the menu but having no idea what to get. He hums to himself, glances nervously between Victor and the waitress, and skims over the options, but he still can’t make a decision. He had no idea what to order in the first place, and under the current time restraints he doubts he can make a decision for both him and Victor that will actually satisfy Victor. Unfortunately for Yuuri and fortunately for the waitress, Victor seems to catch onto his indecisive nature as well.

“May we have a little more time to look over the menu, then?” Victor gives her a dazzling smile, one Yuuri wishes would be directed at him, but also one he knows he doesn't deserve. 

“Yes, of course! We apologize once again,” she says before walking away. 

The silence returns between the two of them as Victor picks up his menu and looks through it. Again. He doesn’t even look at Yuuri before doing so. Yuuri doesn't blame him, though. Victor may have been craving the steak, but they were too late to order before running out. Yuuri wonders what kind of table Victor made a reservation for. The view from their current table is far from terrible, but who knows what kind of view they would have had if Yuuri was on time. If not for Yuuri’s decisions, as well as his indecisiveness...

Yuuri can’t prolong the silence consuming them any longer, and decides to break it before it can become suffocating.

“...I’m sorry.”

“You’re...sorry?” Victor blinks before looking up from his menu to focus his gaze on Yuuri. The guilt he feels has completely caught up with him, and is blatantly evident from the expression and body language he’s showing Victor—eyes downcast, lips pursed, hands folded in his lap, head hanging low, and brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry…I messed everything up because I was late, I’m sure you’re angry at me and you probably don’t want to see me again after today, it’s just that I forgot something important at home so I had to go get it, but if I actually had everything together I wouldn’t have been late, if not for that, I would have gotten here on time, I didn’t even message you to give you a heads up, and everything is my fault…I’m sorry.” Yuuri can’t stop now that he’s started, and even if he could, he doesn’t intend to. Even if the tightness in his chest is impossible to ignore. “I could tell that you were mad at me when I got here, and you probably had to pay even more than you already are for this table, and you’re probably just spending time with me out of courtesy now even though I’m causing so much trouble for you, and now they ran out of what you wanted to eat and we have to get something else because I left you waiting for half an hour, and—”

“Yuuri.” 

Yuuri’s voice dies in his throat, and it isn’t due to the fact that Victor interrupted him. It’s more about the way he interrupts him. Victor Nikiforov’s voice shouldn’t sound so gentle, so understanding, at a time like this. The tightness in his chest slowly turns into an ache as Victor continues to speak, unable to stop him.

“Yuuri…,” Victor’s expression softens as well as he repeats Yuuri’s name and reaches across the table to place his hand atop Yuuri’s. “Yuuri, it’s not…well, alright, it’s technically about how late you were, but…”

_Of course it is...there's no one else to blame but me. He gave me another chance, and I threw it out the window. He would be better off without me. At this rate, I'm just a waste of—_

“I was worried about you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri doesn't respond. He can't respond. Did he just hear right? _Worried? About me? Of all things to be worried about, he was worried about_ me _?_

“You didn’t message me that you would be late, I know how busy Lake Shore Drive can get, and how accidents are prone there, I was just worried. I don’t mind paying more to still get us a table, I don’t mind waiting…I was just worried.” 

Yuuri blinks in confusion, still looking down at his lap. _But I did...I sent a message during the accident...did he not get it?_ As a result, Yuuri’s worries only escalate, and he looks up, needing something, anything to anchor him down. And he finds it. 

Yuuri looks deep into Victor’s eyes, and realizes that Victor is serious.

Doubting him at this point would simply be disrespectful. But he isn’t so easily convinced that the blame isn’t on him, either. He settles by saying what he knows how to say best. “I’m sorry…,” Yuuri apologizes one more time, and to his surprise, Victor finally smiles. It isn’t forced, it isn’t too much, it’s just...Victor. It’s the smile Yuuri was yearning to see all this time.

“I’m just happy you’re here now, Yuuri. Let’s just have a good night, okay?” he says in a reassuring tone, letting Yuuri know that it’s okay to relax, even if just a bit. “Is there anything else on the menu that interests you, Yuuri?” Victor asks, motioning to the already-open menu in front of him. 

Yuuri scans the menu after a few seconds, but really is unsure of what to get. “I didn’t have anything in mind…” He then remembers his initial goal of impressing Victor, of showing him that there is still potential between the two of them. He hasn’t given up yet. If anyone is obligated to make a move, it’s him. “But if the steak isn’t an option, then...w-what about duck?”

Victor considers Yuuri’s proposition with a hum and a small smile. As he thinks, he brings his index finger to his lips, and Yuuri can’t help but stare at the seemingly perfect gesture. “Have you ever had duck, Yuuri?”

“...O-oh, no,” Yuuri realizes he spaced out, his face heating up in embarrassment. “I’ve never actually tried it...I just thought you might like it?”

“I appreciate that,” Victor chuckles softly, and Yuuri becomes slightly more relieved. “If you’re alright with trying it, then I’ll take you up on your offer.” Yuuri nods, signaling to Victor that he is more than willing to try something new tonight. But then he stops and thinks. Why just stop there?

“Um...Victor?” 

“What is it, Yuuri?” Victor tosses a grin to Yuuri, which gives him a bit more confidence in what he’s going to say next.

“Could we...get an appetizer?” Yuuri asks, and is thankful Victor can’t hear the low growl of his stomach as he does so. He was in class most of the day, and he went home immediately after his last class so he could get home in time to get ready. 

Victor chuckles. “Of course. What would you like, Yuuri?" 

Yuuri wasn’t expecting to get this far.

“Oh, um...I actually have no idea,” he confesses with a small smile. The whole situation right now seems like a dream. _Is it really this easy to talk with Victor Nikiforov?_ “To be honest, I’ll be fine with whatever you want.” 

“Whatever I want?” Victor smiles again, and Yuuri nods cautiously, suspecting that Victor is up to something. “Then I want to know what you like, Yuuri. As your sugar daddy, that’s the least I should be able to do.”

Victor’s casual reminder makes heat rise to Yuuri’s ears, but as he looks at Victor, he sees that he’s genuine about his intentions. He wants to know about the food Yuuri likes, as simple as that may sound, for the sake of knowing. It makes Yuuri feel different. Special. 

Yuuri scans over the appetizer portion of the menu. _Beef tartare, braised short rib…crab stuffed shrimp?_ “What…?” Yuuri murmurs under his breath.

“Anything catch your eye, Yuuri?”

“Uh...something like that…?” Yuuri responds in a confused tone. “I’m just confused why they would stuff seafood inside of more seafood…” 

“Ah...the crab stuffed shrimp?” Victor asks for confirmation. Once Yuuri nods, he chuckles a bit. “I never really question the chef’s choices. It's on the menu because people like it, though.”

“How is it even made?” Yuuri wonders aloud. “There aren't any pictures in the menu, so it's not like there's a reference..."

“Does it bother you that much?”

“Well, wouldn’t it make more sense to put shrimp in crab, since shrimp is smaller?” Yuuri suggests, clearly troubled by the dish on the menu.

“Oh…I didn’t think of that,” Victor tilts his head slightly, contemplating what Yuuri had posed on him. “Maybe it’s an aesthetic choice?” he sheepishly offers.

“Maybe…it’s still weird, though,” Yuuri huffs again before smiling slightly as he meets Victor’s eyes, seeing that Victor seems just as relaxed as he currently is. _I can’t believe we just had a conversation about crab stuffed shrimp. He followed along with it. It actually went smoothly. Am I dreaming?_ Yuuri realizes that his conversations with Victor can be calm and fun. Victor isn’t opposed to small talk, but whatever he and Victor are talking about doesn’t seem like small talk once they’re conversing. Just like with Victor’s dog, Yuuri needs to reach out to him. He just needs to give himself a chance. Victor is interested in him. _Be yourself._

“...I’m not really familiar with half of the things on the menu,” Yuuri says and allows himself to laugh a bit. Victor wants him to be himself. The least he can do is try.

“Oh, really?” Victor says as he picks up the other menu that is still closed on the table.

“Yeah. So, maybe...you could introduce me to something new?” Yuuri prods.

Victor’s expression as he looks up from his menu is slightly puzzling. _Did I say something wrong? Things were going well, though...is it the fact that I want him to choose for me again? Should I take control of what I want, then?_ There’s something vaguely familiar about his expression, but Yuuri is having trouble pinpointing exactly what it is.

“There are plenty of things I could introduce you to, Yuuri.”

This time, Yuuri’s the one who’s puzzled. He isn’t sure how to answer that, but he gives it his best shot, hoping it doesn’t sound too unlike him. “Then...I’m in your care.”

There’s a moment of silence as Victor freezes for a moment, then clears his throat, smiling slightly. Yuuri isn’t completely sure, but he detects a faint crack in his composure.

“Something new, huh?” Victor breaks the silence as he skims over the menu, trying to figure out which would be the best to introduce to someone he barely knows. This part of him really shows how much more experience he has over Yuuri. Yuuri is sure he’s tried almost everything in all the gourmet and high class restaurants in Chicago, having had five years to fully immerse himself in the city. While Victor looks at his menu, Yuuri decides to do the same, and he soon stumbles upon something that he’s never heard of before. After glancing up from his menu a few times to check on Victor, he decides to speak.

“...Victor?”

“Yes?” Victor immediately looks up from his menu, smiling a bit.

“Um...I’ve never heard of ceviche...is it good?” Yuuri tentatively asks, then proceeds to be completely unprepared for Victor’s energy when he answers.

“I’ve had it several times, actually, although from different places. I like it a lot!” Victor gives him a dazzling smile which casually reminds Yuuri that he’s in the vicinity of a living god, a miracle to man. “The main ingredient is seafood, but a lot of the flavor comes from the added ingredients as well, such as the radish and cilantro. I like putting lime on mine, as well. Think of it as a seafood salad. I would highly recommend it!”

There’s a few moments of silence before Yuuri finally responds, smiling a bit. _If he’s so enthusiastic, it must be because he wants me to try it._ “Oh...okay. I’ll try it, then.”

“What about your beverage?” Victor asks in return. “You only drank water last time.”

Yuuri blushes faintly. “U-um...well, I’m not old enough to drink yet, so there’s no reason for me to look at the wine list, and I don’t like to drink sugary drinks like soda, so I’m fine with just water,” he responds. He isn’t lying, even though the main reason he ordered water last time was because Victor made him irrational and thirsty in more ways than one—but Victor doesn’t need to know that.

“Ah, I completely forgot you can’t drink,” Victor’s smile turns into a slightly embarrassed one as he catches his mistake. _Well, he’s a little forgetful_ , Yuuri notes. _That’s something I wouldn’t have guessed._ “So it’s settled, then. Ceviche for our appetizer, and duck for our entrée?” Victor asks, and Yuuri confirms with a firm nod. Victor raises his hand ever so slightly to flag down their waitress, and she comes over.

“Have you decided what you want for tonight, sirs?”

Victor is about to order, but the waitress’ attention is directed to Yuuri once he clears his throat, and he tries not to pay too much attention to the surprised expression on Victor’s face as he ordered for them instead. _I have to surprise him._

“U-um, to start, we’ll have the seafood ceviche,” his voice wavers at first, but ends the sentence strongly.

"And your main course?”

“We’ll both have the pan seared duck breast. Ah, one order for each of us,” Yuuri clarifies, closing his menu. The waitress collects both his and Victor’s menu as she gets his cue, but Yuuri is completely unprepared for the next question.

“And what will you both have to drink tonight?”

“I’m fine with water, and—um…” Yuuri internally panics as he realizes he has no idea what Victor wants to drink, but he doesn’t want Victor to think he’s lost control of the situation so easily, so he glances at the back of the menu which is currently in the arms of the waitress and skims over the cocktails, choosing the first one that registers in his mind. “H-he’ll have the Moscow mule.”

“Alright,” the waitress smiles as she writes down the final notes, then turns to Victor. “May I see your ID?”

“Of course,” Victor readily answers with a calm smile, pulling out the sleek wallet Yuuri recognizes from their first meeting. _Oh...the money. I need to give it back to him sometime…_ In the next few seconds, Victor shows his ID card to the waitress before she walks away, leaving them to each other.

“...Is it because I’m Russian?”

“H-huh?” Yuuri blinks in confusion as he hears Victor laugh, and it’s different from his other laughs. It’s lighter, more relaxed. Yuuri wants to hear it again.

“The cocktail you ordered for me. The Moscow mule.”

“O-oh…! No, not at all! I just picked the first beverage that I saw,” Yuuri sacrifices some of his dignity for his defense. He doesn’t want Victor to think he was teasing him—the only thing that would pass off as is bad flirting.

“I was just joking, Yuuri,” he grins and laughs a bit more, the sound like music to Yuuri’s ears. “You did a good job, taking over the ordering like that.”

The compliment has the desired effect—Yuuri can feel his face become warm. It isn’t even much of a big deal, if he thinks about it, but considering that he’s currently trying his best for Victor, the sentiment is fully appreciated. It’s hard to believe Yuuri was on the verge of giving into his anxiety just a few minutes ago. It’s amazing, the way Victor managed to calm his whirlwind of thoughts with a few words and the earnest expression in his eyes and voice. It’s almost reminiscent of when Victor showed Yuuri pictures of his dog on his phone—it’s easy to forget, but in certain ways Victor is just as human as Yuuri, and even more understanding.

 _His phone, huh..._ Yuuri thinks, something nagging him at the back of his mind. _Phone...where’s my phone...wait…_

Yuuri’s eyes widen, and Victor notices right away. “Yuuri?”

“I-I’m sorry, I need to take out my phone to tell Phichit I got here. He’s probably worried sick that something happened to me!” Yuuri hastily explains as he takes his phone out of his pocket, hoping Victor won’t mind.

“Oh, you should do that right away, then,” Victor responds, watching as Yuuri unlocks his phone and grimaces, first at the fact that it’s nearly seven o’clock when Phichit was expecting a text around six, and then the avalanche of notifications from Phichit, which is unsurprising at this point.

“He thinks I got kidnapped,” Yuuri says with a bit of embarrassment after skimming through all the messages from Phichit, every single one past six o’clock typed in capital letters. He decides to send a quick text that briefly addresses all of his questions and calms his nerves. Yuuri can’t say he’ll be spending the night with Victor again since he isn’t sure of that at the moment, but he secretly hopes he’ll have the opportunity to do so later tonight, as long as Victor wants to.

[I got here late, but I’m lucky enough that we found a table. We just ordered food, I’m safe, sorry for not answering earlier. You don’t have to worry, though. I’ll update you on what’s going on later]

After a few moments of silence following his message, Yuuri realizes that this isn’t the best time or place to be texting Phichit. Especially in front of the person that’s asking for something as simple as Yuuri’s time and attention, which he definitely wasn’t giving just now. “Ah…sorry,” Yuuri murmurs an apology as he notices Victor watching. “I’m supposed to be giving you company, but…”

“I don’t mind, Yuuri,” Victor admits with a reassuring smile. “After all, your friend is concerned for your safety. What kind of person would I be if I prohibited you from doing something as simple as communicating with the people who care about you?” He continues, fully aware of the surprised look on Yuuri’s face. “And from what I’ve seen, you’re very close to him. Keeping you from talking to him would be a cruel thing for anyone to do. If someone did that to me and my best friend, I would be upset.”

 _Ah...so he does have a social life_ , Yuuri reasons, then huffs softly to himself. _Well, of course he does. Just because it looks like his whole life is dedicated to his work and his dog on his Sweet Meet profile doesn’t mean it’s actually like that. He probably has a ton of acquaintances through his work. And his looks. Especially his looks._

“Thank you,” says Yuuri, appreciating Victor’s understanding deep down inside. If Victor had disapproved of it, things would have taken an awkward turn. He looks down at his phone again, and sees that Phichit has sent a couple more messages.

[I’m glad you’re safe!!! Have fun!! Tell Victor I said hi!!]

Yuuri smiles. He can hear the excitement in Phichit’s voice without having to hear it. He reads over the most recent message, sent seconds ago.

[And go get him, hehe. If you know what I mean ;3c]

Yuuri’s smile remains, but it widens slightly in embarrassment as he blushes, then proceeds to put his phone away before he can read something else that will make him lose his composure in front of Victor. “Phichit says hi,” he says, trying to lock away that last message deep inside of him. He already knows that that’s his goal for tonight. Well, one of them, at least.

Victor chuckles again, making Yuuri relieved that his time on the phone didn’t take away from their bonding. “Well, tell him I said hello when you get back home.” _But_ , Yuuri wonders, _will I be back home tonight?_

_Or...tomorrow morning?_

It’s a question left lingering in the air, on both of their minds, but neither of them gets a chance to ask, because the waitress comes over with Victor’s cocktail.

“One Moscow mule,” she announces before setting it down. “Enjoy!” After setting two straws down, she walks away.

“Two straws…?” Yuuri wonders out loud.

“She probably assumed I was going to share it with you,” Victor huffs in amusement. “I don’t take you as the type to drink until you’re allowed to, but I could be wrong…”

“Oh no, not at all,” Yuuri immediately responds, surprised that Victor would even imply such a thing.

“I’m just keeping my mind open, Yuuri. I wouldn’t judge you if you did. I’m just saying that you’ve surprised me a few times now, and I don’t know what to expect. But I wouldn’t want to get us in trouble by letting you drink in public,” he chuckles as he takes another sip of the drink. Yuuri sips the water on the table that has been sitting there for a while now, taking the time to observe and attempt to learn more about Victor as he continues to drink his water. _It was a coincidence in the first place that I chose that drink and it had a personal connection. Does he even like it? He’s drinking it pretty calmly...does that mean he likes it? Or is he being courteous?_

“Yuuri?”

Blinking a few times, Yuuri focuses on Victor’s eyes, noticing that they’re trained on him. “Yes…?”

“You spaced out for a bit.”

"Oh, yeah...I was just wondering if you actually like the drink I ordered for you. I don’t know your preferences, so…”

“Hm...I’ll admit, I am more of a wine person,” Victor confesses before taking another sip. “I don’t dislike this, though. It’s just a bit strong, so I probably won’t finish it.”

“Oh...sorry,” Yuuri rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t be. I want to be mostly sober when I’m with you, even if that means skipping out on a slight buzz,” Victor says and smiles a bit. _Oh...that’s what he meant?_ Yuuri realizes. _I assumed that the drink was too strong for him to handle...I guess that goes to show how little I really know about him. Observing can only reveal so much._

“Sorry...I didn’t really choose a drink that fits your image,” Yuuri apologizes just one more time.

“My image?” Victor tilts his head to the side slightly.

“Yeah…”

“What’s your image of me, Yuuri?”

The question leaves Yuri dumbstruck for a few moments before he tries to answer Victor’s question adequately. He doesn’t want to give generic answers, but he also knows now isn’t the time to ramble on and on about how Victor’s hair is angelic, his voice is smoother than silk, his hands are perfect against Yuuri’s skin, and his eyes are enough to make Yuuri lose his mind in a matter of seconds. “W-well...regal, sophisticated…d-divine…”

“Divine…,” Victor murmurs, intently gazing at Yuuri, who now feels just a bit more self-conscious because of his choice of words.

“Yeah...this drink just looks kind of rough in comparison,” Yuuri admits.

Victor simply chuckles before taking another sip. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Yuuri. After all, I’m fully capable of being rough.”

_...Oh._

Then Victor looks into Yuuri’s eyes, and the intensity of his aquamarine eyes only ascertain Yuuri of his suspicions as he gazes back. They’re full of lust. Anyone would be able to tell. However, it’s so intense that Yuuri can only stare back for a little bit before having to look down. He thought that his lust for Victor was strong already, but the way Victor’s eyes pierced him just now shows him that Victor is lusting over him just as much, and that’s more than enough to make Yuuri’s head spin.

Luckily for him, the waitress comes back just as Yuuri breaks eye contact, serving them their appetizer. The smell of the ceviche is fresh, and Yuuri can smell the faint aroma of lime juice.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Yuuri?” Victor pushes the plate closer to him. “Dig in, try it,” he motions with a warm smile.

Yuuri obliges, reaching out and grabbing one of the crackers that line the small bowl in the center. He picks up pieces of avocado, cucumber, and salmon with the spoon lying on the side of the plate, then brings the cracker to his mouth and bites down, letting all the flavors and tastes make their statement on Yuuri’s tastebuds. After the first bite, Yuuri spends a few moments chewing in silence, letting the flavor of the ceviche take over. There’s the slight sourness from the lime, the smooth texture of the avocado, the freshness of the cucumber, the tinge of salt from the cracker, and finishing it off is the salmon’s rich texture and flavor. Yuuri is pleasantly surprised by how every ingredient balanced out, none of the flavors overwhelmingly powerful. For an appetizer, it’s also surprisingly refreshing.

“How is it?” Victor prods as he gets a cracker and begins eating some himself.

“It’s...really good,” Yuuri admits and immediately reaches for another cracker without hesitation. 

Victor laughs as he watches Yuuri. “I’m really glad you like it,” he says as he reaches over and gets a bit of it for himself, leaving the most of it to Yuuri.

Yuuri savors the flavor once more, chewing it thoroughly before swallowing. “I’m happy that you could show me something new,” he smiles a bit, letting Victor have a bit more before he gets a third cracker, and to his surprise, Victor notices.

“Yuuri, have some more, alright? I’m not stopping you, so if you want more, please get some by all means.” 

“Are you sure…?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Victor asks in return. Yuuri thinks it should be obvious, but then realizes that Victor hasn’t had a chance to get fully acquainted with Yuuri’s appetite. _He has no idea…_

“I just…,” Yuuri starts, then laughs nervously. “I tend to have a big appetite sometimes…” _More like all the time. If I’m not careful, I’ll gain weight way too quickly..._

“Oh? What have you eaten today?”

“Well, I had cereal in the morning...that’s just about it, actually…,” Yuuri confesses, realizing just how hungry he is. He had class from 11 to 4 today, and during his one break, he was so focused on the date that he forgot to get lunch. It’s all he could think about all day.

“Then all the more reason to not hold back,” Victor concludes in an amused tone. Yuuri hesitates for a moment before nodding slightly, letting Victor get some more before he resumes eating the ceviche, this time with less restraint. One more cracker turns into three, then to seven, until Yuuri realizes he ate more than half of the dish in less than ten minutes. He completely lost control of himself. He looks up to Victor, hoping he isn’t looking at him with disgust or disappointment, but instead finds him smiling. “Wow, Yuuri. You weren’t kidding about your appetite. It’s cute.”

Yuuri’s cheeks flush in embarrassment while Victor casually bites into his remaining share of ceviche. The fact that Victor finds Yuuri cute at that moment is both humbling and confusing. Yuuri doesn’t understand what part of stuffing your face in front of someone you’ve only known for a week—effectively forgetting their presence in the process—is cute.

“You should probably get some more before I finish it all,” Yuuri warns Victor and pushes the platter towards him, then watches Victor eat instead. However, if there’s anything he knows from past experience, it’s that it’s dangerous to watch for too long—or too intensely—so after a few moments he takes a look at the restaurant and the scenery instead. 

Before, he was much too anxious to even pay attention to the layout in front of him. As he glances around, Yuuri sees other families and couples talking and laughing, noting how the atmosphere is much calmer and casual than that of Everest. He smiles to himself before peering out the window. They’re 95 floors above street level, more than twice as high as they were at Everest and several times higher than they were at Waldorf Astoria. He can see the glowing streetlights below him now that the sun has set, people walking and enjoying their warmer-than-usual Friday night. Yuuri can see the lake, the calm waters reaching the shore of the beach, the cars passing by on Lake Shore Drive now that rush hour has ended. Being so far away from it all, it almost feels like an out-of-body experience, peering down at the world below him. But his attention is redirected when he hears the familiar voice of a woman, and the small clank of plates on a table, followed by a new aroma that overpowers the scent of lime from the ceviche, something he doesn’t recognize. By the time Yuuri turns back to the table, the waitress is already gone, and their entrées are in front of them.

“You really like looking out the window, Yuuri,” Victor chuckles at his observation. “You’re so beautiful, it takes my breath away.”

_He’s been watching me this whole time..._

It’s the second time Victor’s called him beautiful, the first time being in much more sensual circumstances. Yuuri almost wants to ask why he would think something like that, but decides it would probably be better for both of them if he kept a question like that to himself. He still needs to make sure Victor is interested in him by the end of the night. Revealing his doubts about his physical attributes is definitely not the way to go about guaranteeing that. 

“...Thanks,” Yuuri murmurs, not really knowing what else to say, then looks down at the dish. “What is duck like…?”

“It’s not that different from chicken,” Victor huffs in amusement. “I don’t eat it that often, but I prefer it over chicken, actually. Why don’t you try it first, and let it speak for itself?”

Yuuri wordlessly nods, looking at the dish in front of him. The aroma is enough to make his mouth water, and its appearance does anything but disappoint. The dish is layered, with slices of duck breast arranged atop a bed of rice. As Yuuri looks closely, he sees small wafts of steam rising from the duck as well as the bok choy and currants placed on top of the duck. Draped over the entire dish and leaking to the indented curves of the round, ivory ceramic plate is a sauce that also carries its own scent, possibly the first one that Yuuri picked up while he was still looking out the window. He picks up his fork and cuts into the piece of duck closest to him. After putting it in his mouth, he lets the meat take over his taste buds.

The duck is juicy, and all the flavors spill into Yuuri’s mouth, more coming out with every bite. He swallows, then tries the rest of the food on his plate. The wild rice, the currants, all the tastes blend in together in a harmony that Yuuri has never tasted before. Soon, Yuuri is experimenting with different combinations. The duck with currants, currants with rice, rice with bok choy, bok choy with duck, every combination topped off with the blueberry reduction that each ingredient is saturated with. It’s similar to the ceviche—already finished minutes ago—in that every ingredient is compiled into a perfect harmony, but this dish is anything but subdued. Yuuri has a feeling that the taste of the dish will remain even after he’s finished his plate and downed the rest of his water.

“...Looks like you’re enjoying yourself, Yuuri.”

Yuuri freezes, heat gradually climbing up from his neck to his ears as he realizes just how immersed he became in his food. Again. He takes a moment to wipe off some of the sauce at the corner of his mouth, abashedly nodding.

“You must have been so hungry before you got here. If you want to order more, you can, just tell me,” Victor tells him with a completely serious expression, making Yuuri embarrassed. “I just want to make sure that you’re eating well. Maybe I could help pay for your groceries as well…”

“N-no, that’s okay! I don’t think that’s necessary…!” If possible, Yuuri’s face becomes more red, knowing that Victor is more than capable of treating Yuuri to anything he wants. It’s in that moment Yuuri realizes that Victor is going above and beyond Yuuri’s wildest dreams already. Yuuri is hoping Victor will help with his rent at the very least. Meanwhile, Victor is ready to pay for anything Yuuri wants, whenever Yuuri wants it. Even if that’s something as trivial as groceries or as crucial as college tuition. It’s almost too much freedom to even think about.

“Hm...well, if it does become necessary, just tell me,” Victor decides with a bright smile before he begins to eat as well, leaving Yuuri in awe.

Victor has barely started eating, and when Yuuri looks down at his own plate, he’s nearly finished. Victor was watching him the whole time, watching Yuuri eat like there was no tomorrow, and yet still called him beautiful. He watches Victor eat in turn, how he cuts into the meat and handles his silverware with such grace and poise. Yuuri shakes his head, reminding himself that how he eats is how Victor wants him to eat: his own way. They eat in a comfortable silence from that point on, Yuuri thinking of how lucky he is the entire time. Despite being late, Victor got them a table, let Yuuri order whatever he wanted, and keeps on complimenting him at the most unexpected moments. In Yuuri’s mind, things would have gone much differently.

 _Victor really is something else…_ At that moment, the bills in Yuuri’s front pocket are clearly felt against his leg, and he knows that he has to give them to Victor soon. The atmosphere is finally right, and Yuuri’s confidence is at its peak, thanks to Victor. _Once we finish eating...maybe I can say that...that I can pay for my share for dinner, right? Or, well...he treated me last time, so maybe I can use the money for both of our meals?_ Yuuri looks at Victor, who’s wiping his mouth with the napkin. His plate is empty, and his silverware is placed side by side vertically, signaling to the waitress that he’s finished. Yuuri gulps. _I mean...he gave me the money...so it’s technically mine now, so...it should be fine to say that I’ll pay, right? He told me to indulge. This is how I want to indulge._

The waitress comes over and picks up their plates. “How was the food?” she asks with a cheerful smile.

“Absolutely delicious,” Victor replies with a smile just as cheerful, if not more so.

“I’m glad to hear that! I’ll back in a few minutes with your check,” she says as she takes their plates away, the table now cleared. And as she said, she comes back with the checkbook after another minute or two, placing it exactly on the center of the table. Yuuri pushes his doubts to the back of his mind, knowing this is his cue. _Now’s my chance!_

“V-victor. I can pay back for dinner,” Yuuri announces, glad that the slight stutter in his voice is mostly unnoticeable.

“Oh?” Victor looks at him, a little intrigued. “And how will you be paying?”

“Um…with this.” Slowly, Yuuri pulls out the $300 from his pocket, then inhales before finishing the motion, setting the three bills on top of the checkbook. “...I couldn’t spend it. I’m sorry, it’s too much to give to someone like me.” He hesitates before pushing the money across the table along with the checkbook, then retreating his hand. A deafening silence envelopes both of them, Yuuri staring at the bills while Victor stares at Yuuri. Yuuri has nothing else to say. He explained things, short and sweet, and he doesn’t intend on going back on his word. Even if Victor tries to return the money, he won’t accept it.

Surprisingly, Victor accepts the money without a word. However, he slips the bills into his pocket instead of using them for the bill. In their place, he takes out his wallet, then slips out a sleek blue credit card and places it in the checkbook. It isn’t what Yuuri was hoping for, but Victor accepted the money, and that’s all that Yuuri truly wants.

“I’m still going to use it on you, Yuuri.”

Dread bubbles up in the pit of Yuuri’s stomach. He was a fool to think that would be the end of it. “I really think you should use it on something else, Victor,” Yuuri tries to reason. “Something you want.”

“I want you.”

It’s a simple sentence. Three seemingly harmless words. But they’re loaded with meaning, and Victor is no longer holding back with his desire. Even Yuuri is able to tell at this point. Yuuri increasingly feels hot with Victor’s gaze on him, and he can’t be more thankful when the waitress comes over to pick up the checkbook, making Victor break his gaze on Yuuri.

Victor suddenly pipes up as the waitress walks away, giving Yuuri a heart-shaped smile that’s the complete opposite of the look he was giving Yuuri just about five seconds ago. “I have to go make a call. I’ll be back in a little bit!” Victor announces cheerfully as he gets up from his chair once the waitress is tending to another table.

As Victor walks away, Yuuri feels like he can finally breathe again. _You can’t just say that and just leave me here sexually frustrated, Mr. Nikiforov. Is this your way of punishing me?! I had more than enough of this during our first meeting!_ Yuuri sighs, sinking slightly in his seat. _His eyes aren’t fair._

Yuuri can see Victor standing out by the waiting area, holding his phone up to his ear while his other hand rests comfortably in the front pocket of his pants. He seems to be speaking casually, according to his body language, although not necessarily informal. _I wonder who the phone call could be with. Speaking of which, when I woke up in the middle of the night, he was on the phone...assuming I wasn’t dreaming. Could it be the same person? It could, but he’s a busy man, so it’s highly unlikely that he’d be on the phone with the same person…I wonder who it could be._

Victor ends the call after a few minutes, and Yuuri can tell he’s scrolling through his phone again by the motion of his thumb before he puts it back to his ear. _He’s on the phone with someone else now?_

Yuuri decides that continuing to watch Victor is a bit rude, especially when he isn’t gaining any new information from it, so he turns his head back to the table. _Maybe there’s something I can do…_ Yuuri thinks to himself. _I guess I can check my phone._ Yuuri digs in his pocket, taking out his phone. To his surprise, the first notification on his lock screen is from Sweet Meet.

**[Your message was unable to be sent at this time. Swipe to open Sweet Meet for more options.]**

Yuuri tilts his head as he swipes to the right, inputting his password on instinct. Sweet Meet opens, and he sees that his text to Victor while he was stuck in traffic wasn’t sent. _Oh, I forgot I turned my data off…_ There’s a red circle next to the text with an exclamation point, and as Yuuri presses it, two options come up: “Delete” or “Retry”.

The decision is harder than Yuuri initially thinks.

 _Should I just send it again…?_ Yuuri wonders, remembering the chaos of rush hour traffic and the swirl of emotions that had been consuming him at the time. _But the timing…if I sent it now, it would sound like I’m backing out of this relationship. Everything’s been going better than I expected._ Yuuri looks back at Victor, who’s still on the phone. _Victor’s giving me a chance…I can’t be so hard on myself. I’ve been myself all night, and I’ve been enjoying it. It seems like Victor has, too…I won’t send it._ Yuuri makes up his mind, and chooses the “Delete” option. Just like that, the message disappears, and the only one who knows that it ever existed is Yuuri. He exhales slowly, closing Sweet Meet and pondering over everything that’s happened in the past few hours. Granted, it isn’t what he expected, but regardless of how things began, everything seems to be falling into place now. There’s only one thing left to take care of now.

It’s the thing he’s prepared for the least.

Yuuri can see Victor coming back to the table once he puts his phone away. “I just called the chauffeur to come pick us up,” Victor offers a brief explanation, which Yuuri readily accepts. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the food or the situation, but Yuuri feels sated, calm, and reassured. The waitress comes just in time, and once Victor signs the receipt, they're ready to go. Victor folds the receipt and places it in the pocket of his wallet while Yuuri unfolds his jacket and puts it back on. They make their way past the other tables, back to the waiting area where Victor was just at. They press the button for the elevator, and soon enough, the elevator chimes sound, signaling that it’s arrived.

The ride down the elevator feels slower than when they were ascending. “How was dinner, Yuuri?” Victor asks, starting a small conversation while they wait.

“It was really good...I'm glad I got to try something new today. Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri smiles sheepishly, and blames it on the food for feeling slightly giddy on the inside.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Victor says in return with a genuine smile that makes Yuuri momentarily forget the rest of his worries. “Our chauffeur is right outside, and he’ll be taking us to a place a little further south Michigan Avenue.”

“A place…?” Yuuri asks for clarification, curious about what Victor has planned. But deep down inside…he knows what he wants to hear. It’s something he doesn’t want to admit aloud, something he doesn’t want to admit to himself—but the moment Victor suggests spending the night together, _if_ he suggests spending the night together, Yuuri already knows his answer.

“You’ll see,” Victor vaguely responds. The elevator chimes again, and the doors open, giving them a view of the lobby once again. Victor walks first, but once they reach the revolving doors, he lets Yuuri exit first. Outside, they immediately spot the car that’s familiar to both of them by now.

The chauffeur gets out of the driver’s seat and opens the door for the two of them. “Welcome back, Mr. Nikiforov, Mr. Katsuki,” he greets, and they make their way into the car with the chauffeur closing the door right behind them.

Yuuri notes that the atmosphere between the two of them is less heavy than the last time they were in a car together, but hopes that’s because they’re more comfortable with each other at this point and not because Victor may not be interested in spending the night with him. They cruise down Michigan Avenue for 10 minutes in silence before turning right on a street adjacent from Millennium Park, illuminated by streetlights and the surrounding buildings. The car stops at the side, and the door is held open for them again. Yuuri is the first to step out, and he sees the name of the shop printed on the dark green awning as a train on the elevated tracks roars above them.

“Windy City Diamonds?” Yuuri reads out loud, slightly confused to why Victor would bring him there. 

“Not that one. The one to the right.”

“Chicago Watch Center…?” Yuuri looks at the shop before him. He looks closer and reads over the store hours engraved on the glass door. “Victor, it says it's already closed for today…” Moreover, the lights of the display at the front of the store are all turned off, and from where he’s looking he can’t see anyone inside the store.

Victor knocks on the door, to Yuuri’s dismay. _If customers ever knocked on the door way after closing time at work, no matter where I worked, we definitely wouldn't let them in!_

Yuuri proceeds to be proven wrong as someone opens the door for them, immediately smiling at Victor. It seems to be a man in his mid-40s, if Yuuri still has any confidence in predicting age, with curly brown hair poking out at different angles of his head and a sleek pair of glasses that make Yuuri feel just a bit self-conscious about his own pair. As Yuuri glances between Victor and the man, he discovers that Victor is just slightly shorter.

“Ah, Victor!” A man shakes Victor’s hand. He has a slight accent as he speaks, but Yuuri can’t identify what kind of accent it is. “It's nice to see you again, welcome. Come on in.”

“It's nice to see you, too, Michael. It’s been a while,” Victor smiles. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Yuuri.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yuuri. I’m Michael. My father is the owner of the store, but I came in on short notice for an old friend,” the man explains as he extends his hand out for Yuuri to shake, and Yuuri complies. _An old friend…? So he had someone in here before Victor?_

“We’re not that old, as far as friendships go,” Victor chuckles in amusement. “I barely met him a year ago.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen a bit as he puts together the pieces of the puzzle. _Victor...is this who he was calling back at the restaurant!?_

“So, what brings you in today, Victor?” Michael’s conversation continues without noting Yuuri’s shock. Yuuri figures it’s to his benefit, since it takes him a while to process the fact that Victor called the man in front of him less than half an hour ago, requesting for him to come far after store hours, and he actually complied. “Something important, I suppose, since it’s way past closing time,” Michael says with a hearty chuckle. Yuuri could feel a pang of guilt in his heart when he hears that, but it seems like the other two are on good terms, so he lets Victor take care of the conversation. 

“I’d like to buy a watch for him,” Victor reveals straightforwardly.

“V-Victor...!” Yuuri nearly screams in shock. Every nerve in his body is screaming against the idea, and he’s ready to bolt out of the door at any given second.

“Yuuri,” Victor answers back while looking at Yuuri, and Yuuri already knows what Victor’s saying with the tone of voice he used. 

_Let me spoil you._

“B-but, Victor...I was late…,” Yuuri tries to argue, referring to his mistakes from earlier that evening. 

“Then a watch should help you with that!” Victor smiles brightly, too brightly for it to be 100% genuine, and as Yuuri tries in vain to come up with a good response to those words, he realizes that Victor isn’t simply getting him a watch out of pure desire. He’s getting revenge. Revenge for the money Yuuri gave back to him. And Yuuri finally figures out one of Victor’s characteristic traits.

_Victor Nikiforov, 35-year-old CEO of Champion Digital Designs, can be extremely petty._

Yuuri gives up, knowing he doesn’t have much of a choice anymore. Regardless of how much he may try to argue with Victor, the CEO in front of him is set on giving Yuuri something he won’t be able to easily return. Victor and Michael continue to engage in small talk as Yuuri slowly walks around the shop to see what watches are on display, noting that there are several different brands available, and each has a small description. What isn’t shown are any numbers. It makes his decision much harder now, because the watches’ values are all hidden. Phichit’s words come back to haunt him. _‘If they don't show their rates, it's probably because they're high—and the people who buy from them know that.’_ Yuuri wishes he could ask for the cheapest watch in the store, then bargain for half the price.

Yuuri is about to turn to Victor and attempt to make a last appeal against the notion of buying a watch for the person who nearly cost both of them their reservation. Then, a flash of blue catches the corner of Yuuri’s eye, and he stops, slowly turning back around.

He’s afraid to look, afraid that he’ll get attached to something that he doesn’t deserve, but it’s already too late, because in a matter of seconds Yuuri makes his way over to the watch that caught his attention, the design taking his breath away.

What at first seemed to be a glimpse of blue slowly emerges into a harmony of blue, silver, and gold once Yuuri is close enough to see the watch’s intricacies clearly. The bracelet consists of interlocking segments of steel and gold, with all of the segments coming together to form a thinner golden band encased on both sides by silver bands. The clasp holding it closed on the display is invisible, but secure. The lugs of the watch blend in with the steel on either sides, a smooth transition to the main attraction—the dial. It’s the royal blue that initially caught Yuuri’s attention, but as he looks at it now, he sees that there’s so much more to it than the color. Out of the three total hands on the watch, two are made of steel and encased on the perimeter with gold, while the second hand seems to be purely encased in gold without the need for steel. The marker for each hour is distinguishable by the small silver circles, rectangles for every three hours, and a singular triangle for twelve o’clock that stand out against the deep, satin blue of the dial. The only missing marker is for the third hour, replaced by a date wheel. The famous brand insignia, a crown with the name Rolex beneath it, is engraved slightly above the center of the dial in gold, along with the model name and dimensions. Between the dial and the bezel, a strip of metal is barely noticeable, a sliver of silver shining between seas of blue. While Yuuri would expect a watch’s bezel to be the same color as the lugs and bracelet, this watch’s bezel conforms with the dial, with its own markers identifying the location of the second hand as it ticks away. The golden outer ring of the bezel makes contact with all three colors of the watch—the blue of the rest of the bezel, the silver of the case and bracelet, and the gold of the inner bracelet as well as the final feature, the crown. Almost as a final touch, the crown on the right side seems to be the only modest feature of the watch, a traditional crown encased in gold.

It takes Yuuri at least an entire minute to take in all the different parts of the watch, staring in awe at how something made with so many intricacies can come together to make a cohesive and even more breathtaking whole. He’s so engrossed, even, that when Victor moves to stand behind him he doesn’t even notice—not until Victor is murmuring softly, warm breath fanning across his ear and the faint trace of cologne wafting between their bodies.

“Found something you like, Yuuri?”

“O-oh...Victor…,” Yuuri’s immediate reaction is to tense up slightly, but as he begins to take note of Victor’s presence, his proximity and the anticipation in his voice, he relaxes slightly, knowing that Victor is fully devoted to Yuuri in this moment. And for the first time that night, he allows himself to be selfish. “I...I like this one.”

What Yuuri doesn’t anticipate is the price.

“Michael, how much is this one?” Victor’s voice suddenly sounds much louder to Yuuri, and he watches as the store owner’s son walks over to the display case. As Victor puts slightly more distance between himself and Yuuri, Yuuri ignores the voice in his head that wants to complain at the lost proximity.

“Ah, the Rolex Submariner Date? He has a good eye,” Michael compliments Yuuri as he carefully takes the watch out, first off of the display stand and then out of the glass case. “It’s $13,400. With tax and a warranty, probably more close to $14,000.” He carefully hands it over to Victor, who looks it over with a calm smile.

Yuuri neither feels like smiling or remaining calm at the moment, however. In fact, he regrets ever taking a leap of faith. This is something he can never hope to repay, and that’s exactly what Victor wants.

“Victor.”

“Yes?” Victor turns the watch over, humming in appreciation. “Rolex are my favorite brand. Did you know that they’re made in Switzerland? You really do have a good eye for these kinds of things, Yuuri.”

“Please, Victor, that watch is worth more than my life,” Yuuri says, pleads, trying to reason with him.

“Oh, I doubt it Yuuri,” he responds calmly as he opens the clasp and lifts Yuuri’s hand—much to Yuuri’s dismay—slipping the watch onto his wrist. A perfect fit.

Yuuri stares at the watch that costs as much as almost two years of rent, costs as much as a fourth of one year of tuition, costs more than a year’s supply of groceries for him and Phichit, as it rests on his wrist. This watch can be his. Deep down, he _wants_ this watch to be his. And it _will_ be his, with the way Victor is looking both at him and the watch.

_Let him spoil me._

“I think Yuuri really likes it, Michael. We’ll take it. I’d like to pay for it in installments,” Victor starts, but Yuuri is spacing out, and soon Victor and Michael’s voices are just faint noises in the background of his thoughts.

 _If he can buy this for me…how much does he have? Just how rich is he to buy me this and bring me to another fancy restaurant…and to still agree to help pay for my college tuition and rent? Not to mention an offer to pay for my groceries too...just who is he…?_  

Victor finishes up the transaction, and soon, Yuuri can hear goodbyes exchanged in the background while Victor leads him out of the store. All he’s clearly aware of is the weight of the watch on his wrist.

Victor tells Yuuri that he can wear the watch out of the store, and he and Victor walk out of the shop, finding the street they're on relatively quiet for the moment. Behind Yuuri, Victor thanks Michael once more before the door closes, and then it's just the two of them.

Alone.

Yuuri realizes that this is the first time both of them are truly alone with each other. At the John Hancock building, they were guided by someone in the elevator, surrounded by other people inside the restaurant, guided back down—and when they left the building, they were driven by Victor’s chauffeur, and assisted by the owner of the clock shop. But now, it's just Yuuri and Victor.

The Victor that Yuuri still hasn’t had a genuine chance to get to know much about. The Victor that he went on a second date with, watched over dinner, talked with, received yet another gift from, yet still hasn't found out any significant information that reveals who Victor is when he’s spending time away from Yuuri. The Victor that has close to little information about himself on his profile, and on his website. The Victor that is standing right in front of him. The Victor that he still wants to know more about.

The Victor that he doesn't want to end things with.

Not yet.

“...V-victor,” Yuuri calls out, and as he meets those eyes, he musters up all of his courage, knowing that if he doesn't say anything now, he'll never get a chance like this again. He ignores the burn of his ears, the heat on his cheeks, the shake of his hands, the lump in his throat, and slowly breathes in and out. He won't be able to take back what he says next. It's now or never.

“What is it, Yuuri?” 

“...Will you let me steal you for the night, Victor?” 

For a moment, time seems to stop. Absolute silence surrounds both of them, and they look into each other’s eyes, the world around them forgotten. Words are useless in that moment—Victor’s eyes do all the talking. Those aquamarine irises say things that will never get across to Yuuri verbally. There aren't words powerful enough to describe the hunger in Victor’s eyes, and as Yuuri is trapped by them he realizes that they're reminiscent of the way Victor looked at him when he said that what he wanted, _who_ he wanted, was Yuuri. Now, however, it's so much more powerful, no one and nothing holding it back, and Yuuri almost feels weak in his knees when he processes the fact that Victor is looking at him, Yuuri Katsuki, and no one else, with a gaze so lustful it can bring him to his knees then and there.

And then comes Victor’s verbal answer.

“I thought you’d never ask.”


	5. More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6/19: On this historical day, Rui has officially become an old man. Please send them birthday congratulations through here, Twitter or Tumblr!! -Alexia
> 
> 7/12: So, Rui and I have discovered that the best way to recharge on writing motivation is by meeting up with our beta, Derbs, eating together, and making her suffer by referring to future Sugar High chapters without actually revealing what happens. We also discovered that we’re pretty big sadists but we’re not sorry <3 -Alexia
> 
> Please make sure to check out our Twitters, @katsudongs and @NeedMatcha! Rui’s good friend nymphii-arts.tumblr.com/ drew an accompanying art piece for this chapter for their birthday, so make sure to check it out~ And also make sure to check out their other art as well! Also, please tune in to our Twitter and Tumblr accounts for a certain announcement coming in the next day or so.

Neither of them feel the need to speak once Victor gives his answer. They communicate with their eyes, their bodies, the familiar hand on the small of Yuuri's back guiding them. Victor leads him away from the store and down Madison Street, where several cars pass by. Pedestrians are few, and at the moment the noise from the trains is nonexistent. Yuuri doesn't know where Victor plans to take him, but he doesn't care. All he knows is that Victor wants him, and right now he wants Victor with every nerve of his being.

Yuuri can't recall ever feeling this much desire and lust for anyone before. Victor has awakened something new in Yuuri, something that lay dormant for most of his life, and his instincts are telling him to fulfill his desires as soon as possible. They can no longer be ignored. Right now, that's all he cares about: being satisfied. Satiated.

"Have you told Phichit?"

Victor's voice is smooth, calm, low, but Yuuri doesn't have to look at him to detect the other tones in his voice. Anticipation. Haste. Impatience. Yuuri knows them well, because the same emotions flow through him.

"He already knows," he says softly, almost a mumble.

Victor's hand extends further and touches Yuuri's waist before pulling Yuuri next to him. Yuuri can feel Victor's hand firmly on him as he continues to lead them down the street, both of them not noticing how briskly they're walking.

 _I wonder how far the hotel is... How much further?_ Yuuri wonders. _I hope it's close by. I can't stop now._

They turn the corner of Madison and LaSalle, passing by the Marriott, but Victor doesn't seem to slow down. He keeps walking, leaving Yuuri in confusion.

"V-Victor, isn't that a hotel?" Yuuri asks, turning his head to look back at the building while slowing down his pace.

"That's not our hotel."

"Then, where is it...?"

"The Kimpton Gray, on the next block. I booked a room there when you agreed to meet me a few days ago.”

Yuuri and Victor are silent, Yuuri taking a moment to process what his statement means. _He booked a hotel before we met today…_ The hold on Yuuri's waist feels just a bit firmer, just a bit more obvious as the realization fully hits him, and he wishes they could just go back to the Marriott and into the nearest hotel room. _He's been wanting to do this ever since we last met. It might have been on his mind as much as it’s been on mine..._

"I know it doesn't necessarily matter where we go," Victor continues, "since we'll be doing the same thing anywhere we go. But I would like to treat you to something special, anyway. I already checked into the room earlier," Victor murmurs as they wait to cross the street. "We don't have to waste any time at the front desk."

Yuuri doesn't need to answer. They both know what the other is feeling: relief, followed by heightened arousal. Yuuri can see the hotel in the distance. He doesn't care what it looks like, he doesn't care if it's world-renowned, he doesn't care how much it costs. He just wants to be in the hotel room already.

Their feigned patience is completely gone—as if it was ever there since Yuuri posed the question of stealing him for the night.

One more turn, and they arrive at the hotel. Victor holds the door open for Yuuri, and they walk inside together. With a swift, fluid motion, Victor takes out their room key from his chest pocket of his vest, and keeps it in his hand as they walk to the elevator. A few moments after pressing the button to go up, a soft ding signals the elevator’s arrival, the doors sliding open.

A few people exit before Victor and Yuuri enter the small space. Victor peeks out the door for a brief second, checking to see if anyone else will enter the elevator with them. After only seeing a woman walking down the hallway in the opposite direction, he presses the button for their floor, the elevator closes, and the two are alone.

Alone.

Victor pushes Yuuri against the wall, the sudden movement knocking the breath out of the latter as he stares at the man trapping him. "Yuuri…," he murmurs, earning an intense quiver from him. The hunger that drips from Victor’s voice is heightened precisely because they’re alone in such a small, closed space. It’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

For a few seconds they gaze at each other, the lust in each of their eyes reflecting off of each other. Yuuri notices that his own breathing is already slightly uneven, the proximity enough to make his composure crack.

"Showing off your neck like this is just not fair, Yuuri."

Victor's words are loaded, his tone of voice thick, and Yuuri is completely at his mercy. "What do you mean...?"

"You're such a tease." Victor reaches in, and his index finger slowly traces down from Yuuri’s Adam's apple to the edge of the V on Yuuri's shirt. "I've been wanting to touch you here ever since I saw you...leave a mark that will stay for days after..."

"O-oh...," Yuuri responds, but his voice is soft, breathless, and he already knows that whatever Victor wants, he'll do. He closes his eyes as Victor leans in closer, but is completely surprised as Victor bites his neck instead of the skin exposed by his v-neck.

As soon as Yuuri gasps from the feeling of Victor's teeth on the sensitive skin of his neck, his knees almost buckling under him, the elevator door opens. Victor backs away in the event that people are waiting for the elevator, but fortunately for them—especially fortunate for Yuuri, whose head is spinning from Victor’s sudden touch—not a single soul is in sight.

Victor is the first off the elevator, keycard still in hand. Yuuri follows, covering the spot Victor bit with his hand out of embarrassment. The sign on the wall right outside the elevator says their room is down the hall on the right, at the very end of the floor. They hurriedly walk to the end, and before they even open the door, Victor firmly presses Yuuri against the door, the sound of Yuuri’s back thudding against the door filling the hallway. Victor kisses his neck again, Yuuri shivering.

"V-Victor...before anyone sees…," he whimpers, and Victor swipes the door open.

Yuuri feels the door move behind him, stumbling back. Fortunately, Victor anticipates the movement and wraps his arm around Yuuri's waist. The next movement is a blur—Yuuri is spun around, the door closes behind him, and in a matter of seconds Victor has him pressed up against the door again, except this time they're inside their hotel room, bathed in the dark. The motion leaves Yuuri speechless, and Victor doesn't give him time to recover. Victor's hands are on both sides of Yuuri, pinning him against the door. Yuuri can hear Victor's breath, and he's sure Victor can hear his heart beating fast. Victor leans in, and starts to lick the area of Yuuri's neck that he bit earlier.

"Are you ready?" he asks, wanting and needing Yuuri to give him permission. He moves down Yuuri's throat, his kisses slow and wet.

Yuuri's legs feel weak already, like jelly, unable to keep himself up much longer, and it's only been a few seconds since they entered the room. The sensation of Victor's lips on his skin brings back memories of their first meeting, but at the same time, it's different. It's so much hotter than before. It's searing.

Victor presses his leg between Yuuri’s, and a soft whine falls from his lips. In the silence of their hotel room, the only noise coming from what Yuuri assumes may be the soft hum of the fridge, his voice permeates the air. “W-wait, Victor...mm…”

“Hm…?” Victor’s mouth isn’t slowing down, but his leg doesn’t press any further, and Yuuri can tell he’s listening, ready to stop at any moment. Yuuri realizes that he’s completely in control right now. What happens next is up to him.

“L-let’s...go to the bed, first.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” Victor says as he backs off—the new term of endearment not going unnoticed by Yuuri—and lets him move. Yuuri takes off his shoes before heading further into the hotel room, and Victor follows, doing the same. They don't exchange words, the tense atmosphere between them remains, but Yuuri remembers his goal. He can't let Victor do everything. Tonight, he has to make sure Victor doesn't regret waking up the morning with Yuuri lying next to him.

Yuuri lingers by the entrance to the bedroom, not being able to take in much of the room until Victor walks in ahead of him and goes over to the light switch, turning a knob that makes the light turn on, albeit only dimly enough that they can make their way around the room without injury. The layout of the room is largely minimalistic, with the bed taking up the most space both in the room and Yuuri’s mind. After a few moments, Yuuri walks over to the bed, with Victor standing next to him. Realizing that Victor plans to continue right away, Yuuri looks down at his wrist, remembering the watch comfortably situated on his wrist, and Victor seems to notice it as well. Yuuri decides to stay silent as Victor reaches out, taking Yuuri’s wrist and nimbly unlatching the clasp of the watch. Turning to the small desk to their left, Victor sets the watch down. A soft clink of the watch on glass sounds through the room, and then silence follows.

Yuuri knows that now is the time to assert himself, to show Victor that he can do more than pass out from a blowjob, arrive late to meet him, and become engrossed in food to the point of forgetting about other people’s presences. But before Yuuri can say or do anything, Victor decides to speak first.

"You don't have to push yourself, Yuuri."

Yuuri stares at him, dumbfounded. He wasn’t expecting to be found out so quickly, so easily. "But I can't just lay back and let you do all the work...I’m supposed to..."

"Yuuri. Don't worry about it," Victor reassures him, although it has little effect on Yuuri. "I'll feel good as long as I know that you're enjoying yourself, Yuuri."

"But...last time I didn't even…," Yuuri brings up, not able to completely look Victor in the eye as he alludes to the other night. Sure, it felt amazing, but that’s only from Yuuri’s point of view. He has no idea if Victor was truly satisfied that night, if he was even a bit aroused by Yuuri once they were actually in the hotel room.

"I wouldn't have been interested in meeting you again if I didn't enjoy that night we spent together, you know."

"I don't understand..."

Yuuri wishes he could comprehend Victor’s statements, but he already convinced himself that he was the only one on the receiving end that night. _What was there for him to enjoy that night? What did I do for him? The only thing I did was undress him, and it was only his shirt. He can’t seriously be saying that that was enough for him to call it an enjoyable experience, when he was doing so much for me? What if—_

"Just hearing you moan last time was good enough for me. I told you I like being in control, didn't I?” Victor steps closer to Yuuri, a hand reaching out to hold Yuuri’s chin. As he tilts Yuuri’s face upwards, temptation makes him cave in, and he finally meets Victor’s eyes once again. In the blink of an eye, his body freezes as those eyes look at him with enough certainty to make his mind blank. “Seeing you squirming and moaning beneath me...that was more than enough to satisfy me." Victor slowly licks his lips, and Yuuri’s mind flashes back to coming from Victor's blowjob, when he saw the very same gesture by the same man, one that he previously doubted had happened.

 _Oh god...he_ did _lick his lips back then. It wasn't my imagination._

Yuuri's face turns red from the mix of Victor's erotic words and the memory of the other night. Yes, he may be currently bathing in lust, but that doesn't mean his insecurities and embarrassment are out the window. They're still very much present—along with Yuuri's desire to know more about Victor as a person. He doesn't know how to bring it up, but right now he wants to be swept up in the moment, to cling to every sensation and feel his nerves on edge. It's a very different kind of desire, and it isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

“Well? You wanted to go to the bed,” Victor states, and whether he means to or not, Yuuri can detect the impatience in his voice. Yuuri gulps, knowing that they want the exact same thing. Every moment that passes is lost forever, and Yuuri doesn't want to waste another second if he isn't being touched by Victor, touching Victor, or learning something new about Victor. Yuuri lays on the bed, and Victor crawls on top of him. Almost instantly, Yuuri squeezes his eyes shut, making Victor chuckle. “Are you scared? I want to make you feel good, so you don’t need to worry. If you want, we don’t need to go all the way.”

At that, Yuuri’s eyes snap open. “No, that’s not…,” his face flushes at his own words, at what he’s insinuating. “It’s just...been a while. I’m not scared, though...and, um…”

“Yes?” Victor murmurs as he leans in, dragging his tongue over Yuuri’s collarbone and making him shiver.

“I…” Yuuri’s voice hitches when he feels Victor’s leg between his again. He knows Victor plans to continue where he left off. “I don’t want...to not go all the way…,” Yuuri states between uneven inhales and exhales.

“Which means you do,” Victor murmurs against his neck, and Yuuri can almost feel the teasing smile on Victor’s lips. His teeth graze over Yuuri’s skin, making him gasp lightly, but Yuuri hasn’t forgotten his other goal. "If it's what you really want... then I'll give it to you. Just remember that whenever you're uncomfortable, tell me. I'll stop," Victor tells him. Victor wants him to be comfortable, first and foremost. With that in mind, Yuuri decides to take a risk.

"Um...there's something else that's making me uncomfortable..."

For a brief moment, Yuuri feels the body on top of him freeze, and he knows that Victor is waiting for him to continue, even as both of them are brimming with desire. "What is it, Yuuri?" he says as he bites down on Yuuri's neck again slightly. Yuuri notes that it isn’t as hard as the bite Victor gave him when they were in the elevator.

“A-ah... I want to know more about you.”

He braces himself for Victor’s reaction. It’s strange to be asking something like this while they’re in bed, but Yuuri doesn’t want to go further without knowing at least a bit more about the man he’s planning to have sex with, even if he learns only a few minor things.

“More about me?” Victor tilts his head, letting out a little laugh, his breath fanning over Yuuri's neck. “I’m glad you’re interested in getting to know me better in more ways than one, Yuuri.” Victor smiles, then starts to push up Yuuri’s shirt, his smooth hands slipping under the hem and a satisfied hum coming from Victor as Yuuri's breath hitches slightly, pressing a kiss on Yuuri’s bare neck. Then, the kiss suddenly turns into a rough bite with no trace of a warning, earning a gasp from Yuuri. Victor starts to suck on the area a bit, before pulling away, admiring the new mark.

“My name is Victor Nikiforov.”

He moves to Yuuri’s collarbone, still slowly pushing up Yuuri’s v-neck as he repeats the process. The movement of Victor’s hands as they explore Yuuri’s chest makes him squirm beneath the experienced touch. Feeling fingers brush against a nipple, Yuuri bites his lip and his back arcs. After a few moments of sucking on his collarbone, Victor grazes his teeth over the spot one last time before speaking again.

“I’m thirty-five years old.”

Victor dips his head farther down while his hands travel up Yuuri's sides, and he gets the cue, raising his arms. On one swift movement, Victor removes his shirt, not knowing where it lands due to the fact that Yuuri's bare chest is now looking him in the face. He wordlessly leans in, swirling his tongue around one of Yuuri’s nipples. A soft groan falls from Yuuri’s lips, unable to prevent it from slipping out, but Victor isn’t done yet. He latches onto the skin next to it, and leaves another mark. By now, Yuuri begins to understand his method: with every piece of information, Yuuri earns another mark on his body.

“I’m the CEO of Champion Digital Designs.”

Victor keeps going down, until he reaches Yuuri’s navel, his hands comfortably resting on Yuuri's sides. He figures it's to help him relax, but if anything, those fingertips pressing into his flesh just make him squirm more and more. He leaves yet another mark next to it, taking note of the shiver it brings out from Yuuri.

“I was born in St. Petersburg.”

By this time, Victor’s fingers are ghosting on top of Yuuri’s pants. Yuuri had his eyes closed the moment Victor began kissing down his chest, and now is no exception. In fact, as Victor’s fingers slide over the hem of his pants, his breath hitches, and his eyes simply close tighter. He waits for another hickey to be planted on his body, along with a new piece of information, but it doesn’t come.

“Ah...it’s still there.”

“...H-huh?” Yuuri manages to murmur, daring to open his eyes for a brief second. He’s breathless as the sight before him is unveiled—Victor’s legs trapping him to the bed, nimble fingers on his abdomen, and silver bangs hiding part of his expression as he looks down at Yuuri’s body. What Victor’s hair doesn’t hide, however, is the small smile on his face as his index finger presses down on a certain spot, making Yuuri squirm a bit. “W-what’s there…?”

Then Yuuri realizes what he’s referring to. _That_ mark. The one Phichit found before he did. The constant reminder of just what Victor is capable of doing to Yuuri.

Yuuri lays his head back into the pillow and closes his eyes again as a new wave of heat climbs up his face, no longer able to handle the sight of Victor having his way with his body. The rush of adrenaline that travels down his body is clearly visible to Victor, who chuckles.

“It’s a bit faint…,” he notes, shifting downwards and spreading Yuuri’s legs a bit, another motion that makes Yuuri bite his lip. “We’ll have to fix that. And add a few more, don't you think, Yuuri?” Yuuri is about to ask what he means by “fixing”, but he doesn’t have time to do so. Victor is already biting down onto the same spot, and now Yuuri won’t be able to forget that feeling for weeks. He’s sensitive there.

“A-ahh…!” He can’t prevent his voice from slipping out this time, not when goosebumps are rising on his skin from the sensation of Victor’s wet, warm tongue on his v-line. Then Victor latches onto the skin and begins to suck much harder than he did before, and Yuuri's entire body quivers. His hands reach up, trying to grab onto something, anything, and eventually they come into contact with a pillow. As his back arcs again, Yuuri clutches the pillow above his head, gasping when the feeling of Victor’s teeth is accompanied by a hand palming him. He's already hard by now, but the feeling of Victor's hand applying pressure through his clothes pulls a whine from him, and he can't stop himself from leaking.

“My salary is over six digits,” Victor says as he licks the spot one last time, having sucked the spot to his content. “And that’s how I’m able to provide for you,” he says confidently.

Yuuri will never admit it, but the only thing he can think of as a response to that is, _God, that’s hot._

Victor shifts his attention to Yuuri’s pants, and undoes the button. “My birthday is on December 25.” The faint sound of Yuuri’s pants being unzipped can barely be heard by either of them, both of them panting from the lust that fills the room. Neither of them can no longer control themselves.

Yuuri is sensitive to the faintest touch at this point, but he knows Victor is only getting started. The initial goal of learning more about Victor has become a background noise—all he knows is that the more he learns, the more Victor will touch him. His thoughts are already muddled, struggling to process what Victor said. _His birthday...is on Christmas…?_

His train of thought is cut off as he feels his pants being slid off, his hips rising instinctively. He can’t tell what Victor will do next with his eyes shut tightly, but if he does open his eyes he won’t be able to handle seeing Victor on top of him again. Victor's intense eyes, staring right at him as his hands and mouth freely explore his body...he won't be able to take it. However, Victor’s been quiet for a while, and Yuuri decides that it might be time for Yuuri to ask questions. Anything would be fine at this point. “D-do you...um...are you—!”

His boxers aren’t off. He can tell that much. Victor’s hands haven’t even touched his boxers yet. So why is warmth suddenly enveloping the tip of his cock?

Oh.

Yuuri’s grip on the pillow tightens, and his toes curl at the sensation of Victor’s tongue against the fabric of his boxers. As it is, Victor's hand is enough to make him leak and squirm—but his mouth is something else entirely. Feeling the warm huff of his breath, the wetness of his tongue, his boxers which are now becoming damp, Yuuri feels a new wave of warmth pool in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t remember Victor doing this with him last time. After all, it’s potentially even more stimulating than the blowjob Victor gave him, which, in hindsight, seems impossible. Yuuri feels his body heating up, feels his hips tremble slightly, and he can’t stop himself from holding back the broken moan that comes from deeper within his throat. It’s unrestrained compared to the other sounds he was letting out, guttural, and there’s no other excuse for it other than the mounting pleasure Victor is providing him. Slowly but surely, he's giving in to his desires.

Victor pauses. “Am I what, sweetheart?” Yuuri swears that with every nickname he gets from Victor, his head spins even faster.

"A-are...you used to using Sweet Meet?” Yuuri quietly asks, sounding much more breathless than before. _He’s good at this, so maybe he’s had someone…or even many others, before me._

There's no answer at first—which is fine by Yuuri, because now Victor’s fingers are slipping under the waistline of his boxers, and his composure crumbles as Victor pulls them down a few inches, exposing Yuuri's arousal to him. Yuuri shudders at the feeling, not knowing what will happen next.

Without warning, Victor lightly licks the tip of Yuuri’s length, teasing him, earning a high pitched moan from him. It’s embarrassing, and Yuuri wishes he could have held it back, but if anything, Victor seems more spurred on by it.

_'Seeing you squirming and moaning beneath me... that was more than enough to satisfy me.'_

“I am not. In fact, you’re the first person that I’ve ever met through that app.” With that being said, Victor takes the tip into his mouth. Yuuri’s eyes open wide at both the statement and Victor’s actions. Being physically stimulated is overwhelming as it is, but Victor’s words and their implicit meaning coupled with his actions amplifies both. As Victor swirls his tongue around the tip, Yuuri exhales shakily. This is the part of Victor he already knows: just how amazing he is at blow jobs. It doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t he be at least slightly used to it instead of feeling even more stimulated than last time? Yet, as time passes and Victor takes him in deeper without another word, his hands gradually pulling Yuuri’s legs apart, all he can think about is how intense it is, how fast his head is spinning, how warm Victor’s mouth is, how skilled he is with his tongue, how _good_ it feels.

Victor pulls away again. Yuuri whines softly in response, and Victor’s soft chuckle only makes him more aroused. It’s as if Victor is playing with him, and Yuuri is his favorite toy. He feels Victor’s finger on the tip of his cock, smearing the precum gathered on the tip, and Yuuri's grip on the pillow above his head only tightens.

“W-why...me?” Yuuri murmurs breathlessly, increasingly sensitive to Victor’s actions. He hasn't forgotten Victor's words yet. He's completely bewildered. What did Victor Nikiforov see in Yuuri's profile that inspired him to go beyond looking and actually ask to meet him? How can Victor look at Yuuri and feel genuine, unabashed attraction towards him?

“...Get on your hands and knees and I’ll show you, Yuuri.”

Time stops.

Yuuri opens his eyes slowly at Victor's order. Victor is off of him, waiting for him to do what he asked and giving him space to do so. Yuuri swallows the lump in his throat, fully aware of what will happen from here on out.

Yuuri turns over, his stomach now on the sheets. He places his hands on the sheets and gradually pushes himself up, now on his hands and knees. The new position makes him feel slightly self-conscious, so he asks Victor for confirmation. “L-like this...?”

Then he feels Victor's weight press against him without warning, his still-clothed body resting on top of his back.

"Good boy, Yuuri," he says in a low tone, and Yuuri decides to take that as a yes. Victor bites down on the nape of Yuuri's neck, and Yuuri let's out a broken cry at the unprecedented stimulation. Victor sucks hard on the area, taking a small break to lick the area, then suck again. Yuuri's arms feel weak, as if he’ll fall over at any second. He pulls his strength together and holds himself up while Victor continues, hoping that he’ll be able to last just a bit longer.

Victor pulls away, and Yuuri feels a slight sense of relief. "Ah...it's so red here now," Victor chuckles lowly, running his finger across the new mark. He then kisses halfway down Yuuri's back before pulling away.

Yuuri's relief is short-lived. The grinding starts slowly and firmly, and it's impossible to ignore the feeling of Victor's clothed erection against his ass. In a matter of minutes, Yuuri is supporting himself on his forearms, forehead pressed against the mattress and legs feeling weaker with each push of Victor's hips against his. The feeling brings him lower and lower, eventually having to lay stomach down. Each motion creates a delicious friction between Victor's body and the mattress, and quiet groans and whines continuously slipping from Yuuri’s lips. Then, Victor stops.

Yuuri feels fingers along his waist, hooking onto the hem of his boxers. Victor peels them off agonizingly slow, Yuuri wanting to tell Victor to stop teasing him but not having the mental strength to do so. Suddenly, Yuuri feels hands on his ass. They grab both cheeks before squeezing in a way Yuuri has never felt before. A shudder makes his toes curl, and he gasps.

"Ah...just as I thought," Victor says.

"H-hn...!" Yuuri squirms as Victor rubs him sensually. "W-what...?"

"Your ass looks even better without anything covering it."

The straightforward statement makes Yuuri’s head spin. "M-Mm...y-you've, nngh...been watching...? A-ahh..."

"Mhm. You have such a nice ass, Yuuri. Such a shame no one has taken it yet. Well...at least I get the honor of doing it," he says in a low voice, almost proudly. Yuuri moans louder as Victor starts to grope his ass harder, something that Yuuri has never had done to him before. Yuuri has doubts that he'll be able to make it before Victor even begins any sort of penetration. How can he, when Victor is murmuring praise to Yuuri's ass while massaging the flesh with those nimble fingers that Yuuri's missed dearly since the first night they spent together?

"V-victor," Yuuri breathes out, shivering underneath him, and only hears a low chuckle which makes his cock stir with an even higher level of arousal. He needs more. He wants more. He won’t be satisfied until he’s had all of Victor tonight.

He doesn't realize he's pressing his hips back, craving more of Victor's touch, until Victor gradually slows his movements, leaving Yuuri to wonder why he stopped.

"Yuuri," says Victor, and Yuuri feels the dip of the bed beside him. "Give me your glasses."

"Huh...?" Yuuri murmurs, raising his head a bit and seeing Victor sitting on the edge of the bed to his left, extending his hand. The hunger in Victor's eyes is just barely being restrained as their gazes meet, and Yuuri barely realizes his glasses are still on his face, albeit crooked from having partially pressed his face into the mattress.

"I don't want to damage them," Victor simply murmurs before reaching out with both hands, slipping the glasses off of Yuuri's face himself.

Meanwhile, Yuuri is blushing intensely, realizing what Victor is insinuating about how fervent things will be between them in the very near future. Yuuri doesn't doubt Victor's ability to make Yuuri forget even his name at this point, especially when he’s already this aroused without being penetrated yet. All he can do is lay there, ass slightly in the air, leaning on his forearms as Victor stands from the bed, setting his glasses on the nightstand. Then, he begins to slowly undress in front of Yuuri.

His mouth goes dry.

Victor is teasing him. Yuuri can tell. There's no other reason why he's unbuttoning his vest so slowly, slipping it off so smoothly and letting it simply fall to the floor, then doing the exact same with his dress shirt, the deep burgundy of his shirt contrasting starkly with his skin. This is only as far as they got last time—as far as Yuuri was able to undress him. But Victor isn't stopping now. His hands nimbly handle his belt, Yuuri seeing a glint of metal through the dim lighting of the room and hearing the clink of the buckle before the fabric of the belt easily slides out of each loop on Victor's snug pants. He folds it and sets it down on the nightstand, and Yuuri can't help but admire the way the curves and dips of his back bend as Victor grasps the slider of this zipper. The sound of the slider unraveling the teeth of the zipper fill the room—that and Yuuri's uneven breath, the visual in front of him too enticing to look away.

Then, the pants come off.

Yuuri's heart is pounding by now, staring at the last piece of fabric. _Is he wearing...a bikini brief?_ Then, Victor turns around, and Yuuri's heart jumps to his throat. He can't stop the small whine that comes from the back of his throat at the sight of Victor's cock straining against the briefs. _Oh...oh god, he's so..._

Victor smirks at Yuuri's gaping mouth, his shocked expression. "What, see something you like, baby boy?" he says as he takes a step towards the bed, leaning down and caressing Yuuri's cheek. "Don't worry. You'll get it soon," he teases before turning to the nightstand. He grabs a small bottle that Yuuri didn't realize was there, and a small string of packets. He strings it on the side of his bikini briefs and returns to the end of the bed, in between Yuuri's legs as if the position was something routine. Yuuri hears a slight click, presumably from the bottle.

"Have you used lube before, Yuuri?"

"N-no…," Yuuri responds, remembering that he still has a voice. For now.

"It's going to feel a bit cold, okay?"

Yuuri gasps as he feels the liquid drip in between his cheeks. It's cold, as Victor said, making him shiver. Victor uses a generous amount on Yuuri, to the point that Yuuri can feel it rolling down his inner thighs. Then Victor starts to pour some lube onto his hands, coating them all over.

"If it hurts, just tell me, Yuuri."

Yuuri braces himself, not sure what to expect or feel. It isn't as if he's clueless about what Victor's about to do, but he's never experienced penetration before, not even with his previous partner, so to entrust Victor with a part so intimate of him makes Yuuri a bit nervous. However, he's distracted by the lewd feeling of lube dripping down his legs, that and the wet kisses Victor is planting on his back. Victor must be sure of it as well, because a few moments later he slowly pushes the first finger past the first ring of muscle.

"Nn...!" Yuuri's breath hitches and he reaches for the pillow in front of him, gripping it tightly. Victor's finger is intrusive, but Yuuri can tell that Victor is being as patient as he can be so Yuuri can adjust well, and it's reassuring to know. After a few more seconds, his finger slips past the second ring, and Yuuri bites his lip, his body still tensing up despite his efforts to stay still.

"Relax, Yuuri...," Victor murmurs, and his free hand roams over Yuuri's chest and stomach. "Take a deep breath."

A few moments later, Yuuri takes his advice, slowly inhaling but having to exhale more hastily as the finger inside him presses against his walls, Victor doing his best to stretch him. He barely notices, but Victor has already taken note of the way Yuuri’s body is slowly loosening up under his ministrations.

"That's it, Yuuri...you're doing great. It already feels good having my finger inside...I can't wait to feel what it's like to be inside you."

That seems to work some magic on Yuuri, who shivers at Victor's words and loosens up slightly more. By now, what felt slightly painful and intrusive is simmering down to a simply strange sensation, and to Yuuri's surprise, he eventually relaxes with Victor's finger inside of him a couple of minutes later. It's no doubt partially due to the generous amounts of lube used on him, but Victor is experienced as well. Had it not been Victor, Yuuri isn't sure he'd be dealing with it half as well as he is currently.

"Is this okay? Your breathing is less erratic than earlier," he points out, which Yuuri already noticed several moments ago. "I'm going to add another finger, alright? If it feels bad or you don't like it, just tell me what you want me to do. Don't be afraid to say anything," he says again, reassuring Yuuri that he can back out any time he wanted. But Yuuri, if he’s completely honest with himself, wants nothing else than this.

Victor waits for verbal approval from Yuuri to make sure that it's fine to move along, and to not do anything Yuuri isn't ready to do. "Yuuri...?"

"Y-you...you can add another," he shakily replies, still unsure of what to think about the intrusion in his ass. But he's willing to try. If it's Victor...Victor, the one who stops for verbal confirmation, Victor, the one that wants to make sure Yuuri is okay, Victor Nikiforov...he trusts his body with him.

Victor nods and slowly takes his index finger out of Yuuri. He adds more lube on his hand, making sure that it's nowhere close to being underprepared. After closing the lid of the bottle again, he places it on the mattress. "I'm adding the second one now, Yuuri." He brings his index and middle finger to Yuuri's opening again, prodding around the ring of muscles again, before pushing in softly. Yuuri lets out a small gasp, to which Victor stops.Yuuri speaks up, knowing that the sound he let out was more due to surprise regarding the new size of two fingers than the sensation itself. "D-don't stop..." Victor nods, and continues to push into Yuuri, until both of his fingers are all the way in.

"How does this feel, Yuuri?" he says, not moving his fingers at all until he gets Yuuri's approval again.

It takes a few moments for Yuuri to come up with an answer, too focused on the new feeling of being stretched twice as much. He's thankful for the fact that Victor chose for him to get into this position—it's less embarrassing, less direct, and for his first time, Yuuri would rather have it that way.

"Yuuri?"

"I-I'm...," Yuuri starts, shifting his hips ever so slightly. It still feels so strange to him, but another feeling is beginning to emerge as the lube continues to roll down his thighs and Victor's hair brushes against his back. Now that he's slowly becoming accustomed to the sensation of being penetrated, his lust is making a full comeback. "I'm fine...keep going."

It happens a few minutes into Victor scissoring his fingers and pushing them in and out of Yuuri in a smooth rhythm. Yuuri finds himself regaining control of his body, able to fully get on his knees again, and as Victor's fingers reach deeper inside of him, arousal bubbles in the pit of his stomach.

"Yuuri...are you alright?"

Yuuri doesn't register his mouth moving, or his voice acting on its own. All he knows is that he can't take it back when he pushes back against Victor's fingers and moans softly before speaking. "M-more..."

"More?" Victor asks, again, confirming what Yuuri wants.

"Mhm…," Yuuri plainly hums, too preoccupied by what he's feeling. Victor takes that as his cue, and once again, takes his fingers out, adding additional lube, and prodding at Yuuri's hole once more.

This time, when Victor pushes in, his fingers slide into Yuuri's ass with much more ease. Yuuri's muscles are relaxed, and there was quite a bit of lube to help. Yuuri is starting to feel full, another new sensation he’s craving more of, and he moans loudly, feeling too good to be ashamed at the noise that just left his mouth. It feels strangely good for Yuuri, so deep and filling, and he just can't get enough. For a moment, he wonders why he never ventured to try this himself, if it would feel this good. But at the same time, he doesn’t regret experiencing penetration for the first time with someone Yuuri thought he would never have a chance with.

Yuuri's pleasured moans egg Victor on, and he pulls out most of his fingers without warning. "N-no... put them back…," Yuuri whines breathlessly. He gets his wish, with Victor sliding his fingers all the way in roughly, to which Yuuri nearly screams in pleasure. His back arcs deeper, a beautiful sight to behold from Victor’s point of view, and Victor continues to thrust his fingers inside Yuuri's hole.

This. This is what Yuuri’s been craving, and discovering the kind of pleasure that Victor can give him only makes his arousal grow, only makes his knees weaker, only makes his cock leak more, only makes him moan louder. But Yuuri knows this isn't the finish line. No, his and Victor's goal is something even more intense.

"Mm...wow, Yuuri...you've relaxed so much." Without warning, Victor adds the third finger, a shudder immediately running through Yuuri's body at the heightened sensation. Before long, Victor's fingers are curling, searching, and Yuuri almost asks why Victor is bending his fingers like that. However, Victor reaches his sweet spot before he can get a chance, and stars fly in Yuuri's vision.

"A-ah! Again...!" Yuuri begs, and Victor knows he found the spot because of the way Yuuri moans, as well as the way Yuuri tightens around his fingers. He presses his fingers against the spot again, and Yuuri cries out once more, hands gripping the bedsheets. The sight beneath him makes something in Victor snap, and he smirks, pulling his fingers out.

"W-why did you stop...?" Yuuri breathlessly asks. "Victor...!" Yuuri can't take it anymore. The teasing has been unbearable from the start, but this is just too much for him.

"As much as I want to keep playing with you, Yuuri," Victor starts, and Yuuri can hear the sheets rustling, and a tear in plastic. "I can't have you come now. If you do, who knows if you'll be up to 'make up for last time'?" Victor teases.

In Victor’s opinion, Yuuri’s already made up for the other night tenfold, but Yuuri doesn’t have to know that just yet.

Yuuri hears the stretch of rubber, and a slight smack of skin, already knowing what’s going on without having to look. He swallows hard, trying to calm his erratic breathing if only just a bit. "Yuuri. I want to be inside of you now. Is that okay?"

 _This late, this deep into it, he's_ still _asking?_

Regardless of how irritated Yuuri is, however, regardless of how much he's craving that feeling of being full again, he knows Victor is simply seeking his consent before the final step. As soon as he gives permission, there's no going back. At this point, Yuuri won't change his mind even if his life depends on it.

"Y-yes...it's okay...," Yuuri murmurs, and then his voice drops to a whisper. "P-please..." Yuuri is slowly becoming impatient. He can't wait any longer. He wants to feel Victor inside him. He wants Victor to crumble, just like he is right now. Together.

Victor hears Yuuri's plead, and he nods, biting down on his lower lip. He spreads Yuuri's cheeks apart with one hand, and guides his cock with the other. Feeling the tip press against his ass, Yuuri's eyes open wide. He's definitely a lot bigger than what he got from Victor's fingers.

"I'm putting it in," Victor announces, just for Yuuri to know what he's doing. A few seconds later, just as he said, he slowly begins to enter Yuuri, and with all the lube, despite how long Victor is, it doesn't hurt as much as expected. Yuuri groans as Victor thrusts further inside him, Yuuri taking all of him in. Once he's completely inside, he stops moving, giving time for Yuuri's body to adjust accordingly to the length and girth of his cock, which his fingers hardly compare to.

"Are you alright?" Victor's voice is a soft mutter by Yuuri's ear, and Yuuri notices how close they've become since Victor entered him, how his back is completely pressed against Yuuri's, how one of Victor's hands is next to his own while the other stays on Yuuri's waist, how strands of Victor's hair tickle his neck, how Yuuri feels so undoubtedly, unexplainably full. _Finally_.

"Mm...y-yeah," Yuuri manages to murmur back, the feeling of Victor inside him consuming his thoughts.

"Can I move?"

Yuuri bites his lip at the impatience and desire in Victor's voice, still amazed at the fact that he sounds like that because of Yuuri. And he's the same—all of his heightened sensations, his burning desire, his craving for more, is all because of the man above him. The man inside of him.

Once Yuuri realizes that Victor is fully inside, in a place no one else has been before, seeing a Yuuri no one else has seen, he grabs the pillow in front of him and buries his face into it, both arousal and embarrassment mixing and making him even more sensitive to Victor's touch. But he knows that there's still more, and he still wants more. So after a few moments of heavy breathing and silence, Yuuri answers.

"Y-yes...you can move."

Immediately after receiving his response, Victor pulls out slowly, letting Yuuri adjust to the movement. Yuuri shudders, the lewd sensation reminding him that there really is someone inside of him, that this is his first time.

Victor pulls almost all the way out of Yuuri before thrusting back in slowly, giving Yuuri the chance to feel how it's going to feel like. Yuuri groans at the feeling of being filled up again. "Are you okay, Yuuri?" Victor asks, checking to make sure that Yuuri still wants this.

"Yeah...it's fine...i-it just feels a bit weird…," Yuuri admits.

“It’ll feel better soon,” Victor murmurs against his back. He pulls back once more, before pushing back in again.

This time is different. Yuuri lets out a breathy moan, feeling a chill down his spine. "D-do that again..."

Yuuri isn't sure if he hears a huff of amusement or an uneven exhale. What he is sure of, though, is the fact that Victor heard him loud and clear. He can tell by the way Victor mimics the movement from before, except his thrust is slower and deeper. The simple, controlled movement makes Yuuri feel dizzy with arousal. For a brief moment, he imagines what he must look like to Victor—bent over beneath him, holding onto a pillow for dear life, desire overriding his mind. The image makes him a bit embarrassed, and regardless of how amazingly good it feels as Victor builds up a slow rhythm, Yuuri begins to occasionally hold back his moans, biting his lip and moaning into the sheets or the pillow in front of him. Right now, he's completely exposed to Victor. There's nowhere to hide.

“You feel so tight, Yuuri…” Victor grasps onto Yuuri's hips as he starts to pound him gradually harder, knowing Yuuri’s gotten completely used to his size by now, if his moans are any indication. He makes sure his grip isn't too tight since he doesn't want to bruise Yuuri's hips—it'll just make it harder for him tomorrow morning.

"V-Victor..." Yuuri moans as Victor’s thrusts become faster, the pace making him slightly needy. "M-more..."

Victor readily complies. Soon enough, the slight pushes inside of Yuuri turn into rough thrusts. Every time Victor pushes into Yuuri, Yuuri lets out a loud whine. "A-ah...Victor...! Please!" Yuuri's mind momentarily goes blank—all he can pay attention to is the pleasure he's receiving.

Victor lets out a breathy moan above him, and Yuuri shudders when Victor leans in, biting down on his neck. Words are murmured into Yuuri's skin, caressing it. "I wasn't lying when I said your moans were enough to satisfy me, Yuuri. Do you get it now? Do you hear them?"

"H-hear, mmph...what?" Yuuri gasps as Victor thrusts at a slightly different angle, reaching deeper inside him.

"Your voice...your moans...I can't get enough of them, Yuuri. I want you to scream."

The desire laden in Victor's voice makes Yuuri's arms weak, and his spoken desires bring Yuuri to the realization of just how loud and careless he's become. And just like that, a wave of embarrassment washes over him. As Victor builds up a steady rhythm, Yuuri clutches the pillow closest to him and buries his face into it as his cock stirs, muffling the loud whines that Yuuri can't control coming from his mouth. Even if Victor likes his moans, being praised about it only makes him even more embarrassed.

Victor continues kissing Yuuri’s spine as his thrusts become faster. The coarse moans being muffled by the pillow Yuuri keeps his face firmly planted in sound so sweet to him, and Victor wants, needs to hear more. The pillow is only hindering him.

“Yuuri...let me hear your voice.”

“Mm…! Nngh…,” Yuuri squirms as Victor manages to penetrate even deeper, only making Yuuri further bury his face into the pillow. He can’t do as Victor says this time. He’s too loud, too out of control...he feels too good. The pleasure is taking over him, and he's unable to control his voice anymore. His mind is blank. Right now, the pillow under him is his lifeline.

“Yuuri, let me hear you,” Victor commands sternly, in an almost commanding tone. Yuuri finally sees it without having to look: the dominating side of Victor he claims to have. The simple yet loaded statement alone makes Yuuri want to moan for him, but he’s still too embarrassed to do it. With the way Victor’s thrusting into him...he’ll scream for sure. Yuuri bites down on the pillow, trying to cover up everything that escapes his mouth.

Then, Victor stops.

Yuuri is on a plateau, toes still curling from pleasure, but he needs more. He needs more, and Victor isn’t moving. “W-why did you…?” Yuuri shakily asks, his coarse voice sounding foreign to himself.

“Because you’re not obeying me.”

“U-um, Victor...w-wait…,” Yuuri weakly protests as Victor slides the pillow out of his grasp, instead settling it under Yuuri’s stomach for extra support. The force and depth of Victor's thrusts have made Yuuri's legs and core weaker, making him begin to sink into the mattress again.

“I want to know that I’m making you feel good, Yuuri.” The wet kisses Victor lays across the nape of Yuuri’s neck make him shiver, biting back another moan. They may not be facing each other, but Yuuri can feel Victor’s eyes boring into him just as strongly as his words do.

“Y-you...you are…,” Yuuri shyly confesses. When directly told to admit how he feels, especially in a situation like this, he can never do it easily. But that’s not enough for Victor.

“Prove it to me.” And with that, Victor begins thrusting into Yuuri once again, with much less restraint than before. This time, the pillow isn't there for him to hide, and the mattress doesn't muffle his voice nearly as well.

“A-ah...hn…!”

Yuuri tries to hold back his moans, he really does. But the moment Victor starts hitting the sweet spot inside of him, Yuuri can’t hold back. It happens suddenly, in the blink of an eye—Victor lifts Yuuri's hips slightly, changes his angle, and then roughly thrusts in with a broken groan.

Yuuri's mind blanks. His body moves on its own. He grasps onto the bedsheets and cries out, his voice piercing the room. There's no time for him to recover or wonder what just happened. He’s suddenly drowning in so much lust and pleasure that he can’t even form coherent words—he thinks he says “more”, but it comes out as “mmm, ah”. Victor grips Yuuri’s hips and starts to mercilessly pound into him, making Yuuri genuinely scream as his back arcs. Victor licks his lips after hearing that first yell, and decides to continue at that pace to hear more of what Yuuri has to offer.

Yuuri’s aware of Victor’s groans above him, and he can’t help but hear his own voice tangling with his, a harmony created between the two. Yuuri feels like he can pass out from the intense sensation of Victor hitting him so deeply at just the right angle, making him see stars. Everything’s so intense, so hot, so deep, so quick, and Yuuri knows he won’t be able to last like this. His body isn’t his anymore—it moves on its own, his voice is unrestrained, his hands grip the sheets tightly, his toes curl with pleasure, and he’s on the brink of bursting.

“That’s it, Yuuri…,” Victor grunts, the noise making Yuuri’s legs weak. “Let me hear you. All of you. All of those sweet sounds.”

Any past traces of embarrassment or shame are gone. Yuuri continues to moan wantonly with each of Victor’s thrusts. He can feel the climax approaching, his throat hurting, getting hoarser with each sound escaping. He’s so preoccupied with Victor plowing into him that he can’t warn him that he’s about to come. There may have been an attempt to tell him, but that, too, simply turns into one of Yuuri’s many cries of pleasure. He doesn’t have enough energy or time to tell Victor of his impending release, because suddenly Victor’s hand is pumping his length in time with his thrusts, and that’s all it takes to bring Yuuri over the edge, forehead pressed to the mattress and moaning into the bedsheets as he comes on Victor’s hand and the sheets.

He can still feel Victor thrusting inside him, and the sensation only makes his orgasm longer and more intense, waves of pleasure overriding all other senses in his body, his hips jerking as Victor’s length continues to occasionally hit his prostate even after coming. After a few moments, Yuuri finally begins to catch his breath as Victor’s thrusts slow down, and he simply lays there, reveling in how good everything just felt. Whatever his expectations were, Victor surpassed them tenfold.

Slowly, gradually, the room stops spinning, and Yuuri lets his body unwind and relax, noting Victor's significantly slower pace. There are soft groans coming from above him, and Yuuri silently listens, finally beginning to breathe normally. The feeling of Victor slowly sheathing himself deep into Yuuri is still lewd and makes Yuuri bite his lip, but since he just came he feels a wave of drowsiness take over at the same time. His eyes close, and he sighs softly once Victor pulls out completely, cheeks flushing slightly at the sudden emptiness he feels.

At first, it's completely silent between them, their breaths the only sounds filling the room. Yuuri feels as if he can drift off at any second, and he has a feeling Victor knows it as well.

"I'll be back," Victor murmurs, his voice still exposing traces of breathlessness as Yuuri feels the bed dip beside him. His eyes are still closed as he hears Victor walking away, then a stream of water from what he assumes is the bathroom. It abruptly cuts off a few seconds later, followed by steps, and then Yuuri jolts as something warm is pressed against his lower back.

"V-victor..?" Yuuri calls out quietly, noting he's still breathing unevenly as well.

"Just cleaning you up a bit," Victor responds.

Yuuri finally recognizes the sensation as a warm towel, and the action makes his face heat up slightly out of embarrassment. He would try to clean up himself, but right now he isn't even sure he wants to try moving. The warm cloth over Yuuri's body feels nice and soothing to his tense muscles. He can feel his body relax further underneath Victor's touch, the complete opposite of what Victor's touch did to him just a few moments ago. The feeling of being clean with all his energy sapped out of him makes Yuuri’s eyelids feel heavy, even though he wants to stay awake.

"Is there anything you'd like, Yuuri?" Victor asks as he wipes himself up with a different towel. "Do you need to look at your phone, eat, anything?" he suggests.

"I...," Yuuri begins, then is unable to finish as a yawn breaks off both his speech and train of thought.

"If you just want to sleep, that's fine as well," Victor says with a trace of amusement in his voice.

Yuuri wishes he had the energy to answer, but his eyelids already feel heavy, his breathing is drawn out, and his body is slowly shutting off, getting ready for sleep. Victor notices as well, and Yuuri doesn't bother to turn onto his back before falling asleep—the sounds of the room and Victor's breathing slowly fade out, and after a few moments he drifts off into a deep slumber.

Victor smiles softly at the sleeping younger man in front of him. He gently rolls Yuuri onto his back and continues to clean the rest of him, huffing in amusement as Yuuri’s body doesn't even twitch at his touch, overcome by exhaustion. Yuuri is completely knocked out, possibly even more than their first meeting, and he doesn't budge even when the cloth touches his lower stomach. Victor treats him with utmost care, and leaves the fully cleaned up Yuuri on the bed for a little bit while he goes to find Yuuri's boxers.

Victor searches around the floor, and finally finds Yuuri's boxers. Walking back to Yuuri, he carefully slips his legs through each opening and tugs his boxers up inch by inch until they snugly fit over Yuuri’s hips. After finding his own underwear, Victor pulls the covers over Yuuri, turns off the light, and slips in next to him, letting his drowsiness take over his consciousness as well.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri is used to groggily waking up on Saturday mornings to Phichit blaring music from the living room, knowing that it's the day of the week they devote to cleaning and keeping track of what they need: groceries, home supplies, school materials, and dance equipment among the vast list they've formed since moving in together. So when Yuuri opens his eyes and finds himself squinting due to sunlight hitting his face, silence filling the room, he wonders if he's dreaming. The sheets are fluffier than he remembers, and he wonders if Phichit tucked him in the night before. He must have been too tired to change into more comfortable clothing, since all he's wearing now are his boxers.

The brightness doesn't do much to help him see the view in front of him, but he briefly wonders if Phichit started cleaning before him—the wall he's facing is bare, save for a painting hanging in the center. However, Yuuri starts to doubt his own vision as he looks at the window half-covered by full length curtains, which his apartment definitely doesn't have. Neither he or Phichit have curtains for floor-to-ceiling windows as well, making him wonder if he needs to get his eyes checked again soon. As he ponders on the subject, his eyes move over to stare at the simple nightstand that he knows they don't own, either. He takes note of the small bottle, sleek black belt, and his glasses neatly arranged next to each other, and decides to put on his glasses once he's fully awake. Glancing upwards, dangling from the ceiling is what looks like a golden spherical lamp. _Where did Phichit find that?_ Yuuri groggily thinks to himself, his mounting confusion only making him slightly frustrated. It doesn't help that the natural light coming from the window is still hitting him full force.

To escape the harsh morning sun, Yuuri groans softly, closes his eyes, and gradually turns to face the opposite side of the room, the movement feeling a bit strange. He doesn't worry about it for now—he's simply relieved the sun isn't assaulting his face anymore. _I should check Twitter...didn't Phichit say he sent me something...?_

"Mm...," Yuuri sighs, then clutches the pillow under his head and yawns. Slowly, his eyes open, the fact that the sun is now attacking his back making it easier to do so. The first thing he registers are orbs of aquamarine and platinum hair shining in the sunlight, and his body freezes.

"Good morning, Yuuri.”

Yuuri audibly gasps. "O-oh...!" He backs away to the edge of the bed, and it's a miracle he doesn’t fall off. It all comes back to him.

Victor's fingers, teasing him open.

Victor's mouth, leaving marks on his back.

Victor's…

Yuuri face flushes before he finds the composure to mumble his greeting—from where, he'll never know. "G-good morning, Victor..."

Victor chuckles, a smile bordering on angelic on his face. Yuuri is completely in awe, both as an average human being and someone who isn’t fond of mornings. _Does he wake up like that?_ "You knocked out pretty fast again last night. I cleaned you up with a cloth, but if you want to shower still, then you can.”

Yuuri wants to pinch himself awake. Actually, he was already pinching his arm under the covers the moment he met Victor’s gaze, but no matter how hard he tries he won't awaken from his dream. He's not wearing his glasses, but Victor's pristine smile is clearer than a perfect summer day, and Yuri almost swears he sees a sparkling aura around the man in front of him.

"I think...," Yuuri starts, then clears his throat. "I'll be okay..."

"Ah, if you can't move then I can carry you! I made sure to use plenty of lube, but I'll admit I got a bit carried away yesterday when I heard you moaning so deliciously."

Yuuri's entire face turns red at that comment. "A-ah, no, I...."

"Hm..." Yuuri is frozen in place as Victor suddenly begins to lean in, reaching out and tracing his index finger along the side of Yuuri's face. "Or...are you ready for another round?"

Yuuri's mouth is agape as he stares at Victor, processing every syllable of every word Victor just said. _Another...round..._ His cheeks and ears are burning phenomenally, and both Victor and Yuuri can tell just how flustered he is. Once he registers that Victor is still silent, waiting for a response, Yuuri answers him by pulling the bedsheets over his head and shielding himself from Victor.

“Why are you hiding, Yuuri?”

“U-um, these covers are really soft...and warm...s-so I want to stay here a little longer…” If possible, Yuuri buries himself even deeper under the sheets, wishing he could go into hibernation and never have to meet Victor's eyes again.

Victor chuckles. “I see, I see. I’ll contact the front desk to push our checkout time,” Victor smiles as he gets up from the bed.

Yuuri immediately regrets pulling down the covers ever so slightly—only the top of his head and eyes are visible from Victor’s point of view—as he catches sight of those bikini briefs that made him lose his grip on sanity last night. Victor proceeds to walk over and pick up the pants he was wearing yesterday, slipping them back on. The burgundy shirt is draped over a chair in front of the flat screen TV, and as Victor puts his arms through the sleeves Yuuri is reminded of how well the deep red suits him. Buttoning from the bottom up, Victor leaves the shirt untucked and doesn’t bother to grab his tie as he turns to face Yuuri, leaving the top button of the shirt undone. “Think about what you want for breakfast, okay?” he waves, pulling his phone out of the pants pocket with his free hand before leaving the room.

Yuuri sinks into the sheets even more, covering the rest of his face up. _Oh god, I can’t believe I slept with him. With Victor._ Victor _. I can’t believe I had sex with him, I can’t believe…!_ Yuuri gasps loudly, remembering another detail of that night. _I can’t believe I made those noises. I can’t believe I was so loud… Did the people next door hear us? Did they hear me?! I was moaning into the pillow for a good amount of time, so maybe they didn’t hear? I hope not, I was so loud…!_ Butterflies are attacking Yuuri’s stomach, and he groans as he rolls around in bed, not knowing where the edge of the bed is. _God, did I pass out again?! I mean, I did have class yesterday, and dinner was a high-pressure situation, especially getting there, but leading up to getting here, and actually doing…actually having sex, I had energy…but I just passed out?! And he cleaned me up?_ By now, Yuuri feels hot wrapped up in the sheets, but he doesn’t feel like unraveling from them anytime soon. He just wants to disappear and not have to deal with whatever the morning holds. _Wait a minute…did we sleep in the same bed?! Did we sleep in the same bed the first night?! I can’t recall… All I remember from a week ago is waking up in the middle of the night and seeing him on his phone…Did he sleep last time? Did he sleep last night? Was he on the phone again last night, and I didn’t wake up? What happened last night?!_ A new thought hops onto Yuuri’s train of thought, and a wave of dread washes over him as he rolls back and forth on the bed, not having a proper outlet for his embarrassment. _Oh god, I hope I didn’t drool on the pillow… God, I hope he didn’t see my sleeping face…! Wait, of course he did! He was staring right at me when I woke up…! Oh god, I could just die…!_

Yuuri isn’t sure how it happens. He rolls to his right, feels the edge of the bed, and stiffens, bending his back and tightening his core to prevent the impending fall, when he feels it. A loud yelp resonates through the room, followed by deafening silence.

He won’t move. He doesn’t want to. There’s slight pain coming from his ass, and he’s wondering if he’ll be okay. Victor did a good job preparing him, verbally asking if he was okay every step of the way, using more than enough lube, and taking it slow, just for him. But it was still his first time, Yuuri reminds himself, and that of course pain would be inevitable. His body needs time to adjust to the stretching that was done to him last night.

But will he be able to walk? Sit up?

“Yuuri? Are you alright? Can you move?”

_I hope so._

Slowly but surely, Yuuri rolls to his left until the sheets are looser, then pulls down the sheets until his head and part of his torso are exposed. The look of slight concern and confusion on Victor’s face is blatantly obvious, but Yuuri tries to ignore it. “I, um...might need some help…”

Victor walks over to the side of the bed where Yuuri lies. “Was I too rough?” he asks as he sits down next to Yuuri. “Is the pain that bad? Do you need medicine?” he continues, his brows furrowing in concern. Yuuri shakes his head, a bit startled by all the attention shifted to him.

“No, it’s just a little sore...I’m sure it’ll be better soon,” he tells Victor, to which Victor sighs in relief.

“Is there something I can do to help?” he suggests, and Yuuri considers his offer instead of simply brushing him off. Right now, he doesn’t fully know what he’s capable—or rather, incapable—of doing, and he isn’t eager to find out his limits.

“Well...could you, um, get my clothes?” Yuuri murmurs. Victor immediately complies, standing and going over to the same chair where his dress shirt was draped. This time, though, Victor reaches down and picks up a pile of neatly folded clothes that Yuuri readily recognizes as his. _He folded my clothes…_

“Do you want me to put them on you?”

“O-oh, no thanks,” Yuuri immediately answers, knowing that he’s already being enough of a burden on Victor. He’s sure that he isn’t so helpless that even dressing himself is out of the question.

Then, he tries to sit up.

Victor immediately reaches out, propping a hand on his back for extra support, and Yuuri’s face heats up in shame. It definitely isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but the fact that he needs Victor’s help to do something as simple as getting up doesn’t make him feel proud, to say the least. In the next few moments, Yuuri turns his body to face Victor, his legs dangling over the side of the bed.

“Are you sure?” Victor asks. Yuuri knows that the proposition to be dressed is still on the table, but whether it be his confidence or just plain stubbornness, Yuuri doesn’t want Victor to go that far.

“I’ll be okay,” Yuuri says, holding his hands out for his clothes. After a moment of consideration, Victor hands over Yuuri’s shirt.

The v-neck is definitely the easiest to put on, but Yuuri is startled while pulling the shirt over his head as he feels hands grabbing his feet. “V-victor?”

“I’m just putting your feet through each pant leg so you don’t have to bend down that far.” Yuuri knows it isn’t Victor asking for permission anymore, but Victor wanting to help Yuuri out of his own desire to do so, and Yuuri doesn’t have a say in that. As he pushes his head through the top of his shirt, Yuuri is greeted by the sight of Victor carefully slipping each pant leg onto its respective leg, then pulling up the pants until they reach Yuuri’s knees. The smooth yet languid movements make Yuuri relax slightly, and he meets Victor’s eyes as he stands, leaning down slightly to be within Yuuri’s reach. “You can hold onto me.”

Yuuri understands what Victor is trying to say the moment he thinks about it—what other way will he be able to pull up his pants without holding onto Victor, especially when he has to stand to do so? After sighing softly, Yuuri reaches out and places a hand on Victor’s shoulder, his other hand keeping his pants in place as he slowly stands, biting his lip. The pain, again, isn’t as harsh as he assumed it would be, but it’s still present. Once he’s fully on his feet, he ventures to take his hand off of Victor, holding his breath as both hands grab onto his pants. As he slips them on, relief washes over him, and he swiftly pulls up the zipper and pushes the button through the hole.

“I’ll get your glasses,” Victor notifies him, and Yuuri simply nods slightly, finally exhaling. The fact that Yuuri can’t move much due to last night’s activities makes him embarrassed, but it doesn’t seem like Victor cares much at all.

“Thank you,” Yuuri murmurs as Victor hands him his glasses.

“Do you think you can make it to the living room?” asks Victor, tilting his head slightly.

“...Yeah,” Yuuri nods after a moment of thought, still feeling a bit stubborn. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Victor answers, then proceeds to put his arm around Yuuri’s waist, shifting to stand next to him. The sudden proximity makes heat rush to Yuuri’s ears. “Just hold onto me, Yuuri. I don’t want to take any risks.”

The fact that Victor is still helping him despite having said he could walk by himself only shows that Victor is fully aware of Yuuri’s overconfidence. He won’t be surprised if Victor makes fun of him for it. “S-sorry…”

“Why are you apologizing?” Victor asks as he moves forward, and Yuuri begins to take small steps, relieved that it doesn’t hurt as much as he expected. The bedroom door is already open, directly leading into the living room.

“I mean...I’m kind of a burden to you right now, with you having to help me just to walk…”

“Don’t worry. After all, I’m the reason you can’t walk in the first place.”

Yuuri is too busy blushing a deep crimson to think of an appropriate answer for Victor’s remark. _He’s...not wrong._ Moreover, he has a creeping suspicion that Victor knows what Yuuri is thinking in that moment, so he saves himself the embarrassment and decides to stay silent instead.

As they walk into the living room, Yuuri momentarily forgets about the pain coming from his hips, taking in his surroundings. He and Victor were much too preoccupied to notice or appreciate the hotel room in its entirety—last night, the bed was the most important part of the room to both of them—and now that the morning light fully illuminates the room, Yuuri notices that, compared to their previous meeting, their current room is much more spacious and luxurious. The walls are a light gray, with a large painting adorning one of the walls. Yuuri notices that most of the furniture is either dark or light blue, including the suede L-shaped sectional sofa in the middle of the room, curtains along the wall to the right, and baby blue modern sofa on the opposite side of the room, accompanied by a dining table.

The layout is relaxed, yet neat and strategically placed to make the room look much more spacious. Victor walks Yuuri over to the couch paired with the dining table, letting him take a seat first before walking around and sitting next to him. As Yuuri sits, he notices that the television is on, although the sound is muted, showing the forecast for the next few days. On the coffee table sitting in front of the couch is a small flower vase atop two books, much like there is on the dining table, along with an ashtray. Looking to his right, he sees the entrance to the room, staring at the door especially for a few moments and remembering that he and Victor spent some time there as well, the memory making his cheeks flush a bit. Averting his gaze, he looks up to see a chandelier. It’s not a traditional one made of glass or metal, but composed of several cylindrical tubes arranged in a circle, each one containing a small bulb inside. With natural light filtering in through the window, there’s no need to turn it on, so the chandelier is just there for decoration at the moment.

“Let’s see…”

Yuuri’s attention shifts over to Victor, who’s looking over what Yuuri assumes is the hotel’s manual, which was one of the books under the flower vase on the dining table. He may be satiated in terms of his sexual needs, but Yuuri’s other needs begin to surface as Victor flips the page to a certain section.

“Hm...it says they have a restaurant downstairs, but there’s room service available as well. It’s a bit limited, but is there something you’d like, Yuuri? If you want, I can go downstairs and bring some food back as well. Yuuri?”

“Huh?” Yuuri murmurs, looking at Victor. He was a bit too busy staring at the picture of the french toast platter: two thick pieces of golden brown french toast with a cheesy filling piled vertically, draped with strawberries, blueberries, and powdered sugar on top. On the side are two sausage links, as well as a side of crispy hash browns.

“Oh...you want this?” Victor chuckles, pointing at the picture. Yuuri nods abashedly. “You were staring so intently I thought you were spacing out.”

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri apologizes. At this rate, Yuuri’s coming off as the type of person who only cares about sex and food. Victor doesn’t seem bothered by that, either.

“Maybe I’ll order the same thing. You’ve made a lot of good suggestions in the past day or so,” says Victor, slyly referring to both their time at the restaurant and Yuuri’s proposition to spend the night with Victor. The reminder of the latter makes Yuuri’s cheeks flush again.

“Thanks…”

“I’ll order right now. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

Yuuri watches in silence for a few moments as Victor stands, going over to the phone that’s back in their bedroom. With Victor out of sight, Yuuri decides to preoccupy himself with the magazine on the dining table, absentmindedly flipping the pages. In reality, he’s listening to Victor as he orders food, wondering if the cost is already covered by whatever Victor was going to pay for the room they’re in right now. Even though he was opposed to the idea less than 24 hours ago, Yuuri has the urge to do his own research and see how much their current room costs compared to the room at Waldorf Astoria. He hopes that it’s less, even if only a bit, but has a creeping suspicion that it’s the complete opposite.

“Yuuri? Anything to drink?” Victor calls from the bedroom, his head peeking out from the doorframe.

“Uh...o-orange juice?” Yuuri hesitantly answers, completely unprepared for Victor’s question and feeling unsure about it afterwards. _I probably should’ve gotten coffee or tea. Orange juice sounds...childish._

Victor finishes less than a minute later, walking back over to Yuuri. He doesn’t say anything about Yuuri’s beverage choice, instead leaning in close to skim over whatever Yuuri is supposedly looking at: ironically enough, a recipe for breakfast crepes. After a quick glance at Victor, Yuuri also looks at the magazine, not knowing what to say. They both read over the recipe and procedure, words on the tip of Yuuri’s tongue with no proper way to say them. Where would he even start? Right now, he’s too embarrassed to even think about complimenting Victor on last night. But if he says nothing, won’t that come off as snobbish and ungrateful? And now that they’ve had sex...what comes next? What if Victor is done with him? Was just one time enough to satisfy him? Was Victor even satisfied last night?

_What should I do?_

“Yuuri, thank you.”

“...What?” Yuuri looks at Victor, surprise and confusion plastered on his face.

“Last night was amazing!” Victor breaks out into a heart-shaped smile, only putting Yuuri into a heightened state of confusion.

“W-wait, but—”

“It was a dream come true, being able to spend all night with you! I couldn’t ask for anything better!”

“V-victor—”

“You responded so well to everything, your voice was endearing, your body felt so good under mine, and being inside you was absolutely pheno—”

“Victor!?” Yuuri abruptly interrupts, blushing so profusely he feels dizzy for a moment. Victor hums in apprehension, waiting for Yuuri to speak, but he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Thankfully, Victor gives him a few moments to think before speaking. “It’s just...you don’t have to exaggerate about last night. If anyone should be grateful, it’s me…”

“Exaggerate?”

“Yeah...saying all those things about me when I was mediocre at best…”

Victor tilts his head slightly. “I’m not exaggerating, though?”

For a moment, Yuuri reconsiders the notion that he’s dreaming. _Is he crazy? Does he even know how amazing_ he _was last night? Does he have any idea how much he made me lose my mind?_

A knock on the door brings them out of their bubble, and Yuuri can’t decide if that’s to his benefit or not.

“I’ll be back,” Victor casually says as he stands, walking over to the door. Yuuri inhales over the span of a few seconds, Victor’s compliments echoing listlessly in his head, and exhales just as slowly.

Victor comes back with a large tray in hand, and Yuuri can see the breakfast plate he ordered right there waiting for him. He doesn’t realize how hungry he really is until he sees the plate in real life, off the page and staring him in the face. Victor places the plate in front of Yuuri, and places his plate on the table where he was sitting.

Yuuri picks up the fork that lay on the side of his plate, cutting off a bite-sized piece of french toast, and Victor does the same. They take a few bites of their breakfast before Yuuri puts down his fork. After a few minutes of eating, some of Yuuri’s composure and confidence is finally back, and he recites the line he wants to say a few times in his head before speaking.

“Victor?”

“Hm…?” Victor looks at him, currently chewing his food.

“Um…about last night...I really, uh…enjoyed it. Thank you,” he says, his voice getting progressively softer near the end. Yuuri is embarrassed to say it, but he wants Victor to know that he also enjoyed it, and not just Victor.

Victor places his fork down as well, smiling softly at Yuuri. “It’s nice to know that you can tell me, Yuuri. I’m glad I was finally able to make you feel good.”

“Finally?”

“Well, ever since last week, I've been thinking about wanting to go all the way with you, and I'm glad you felt the same way. It made me happy when you agreed to meet with me again. That was my primary reason for meeting you again.”

“...Then…,” Yuuri's staring down at his plate. “Now that we've gone all the way…” It's not like he’s become necessarily attached to Victor, but last night felt so good...was that the last time Yuuri would get to feel like that? There’s still the fact that Yuuri ultimately received more than he had given the night before, and he won’t blame Victor if he isn’t eager to see him again. For Yuuri, last night was amazing, but to Victor...

“...If I said I wanted to meet you again, would you still be opposed to it?”

“W-what?” Yuuri blinks in surprise. _Since when was I opposed to it…?_

“Well,” Victor begins, as if he read Yuuri’s mind, “during our first meeting you were a bit shocked when I said I would take you out and buy you whatever you wanted and things like that. I thought that you weren’t looking for anything long-term, and even now I was under the assumption that you were still opposed to a long-term sugar relationship. Am I wrong?”

Yuuri knows his French toast is getting a bit cold, but he doesn’t care right now. Did he really give that impression to Victor? “No—I-I mean, yes. It’s just...you…”

“Yes?”

“I’m just...surprised, honestly,” Yuuri admits. “That you want to see me, I mean…”

“I don’t think it’s that surprising. You’ve already been aware of it, haven’t you? I’m not the type to shy away from my emotions,” Victor readily responds, alluding to all the times he’s reassured Yuuri, saying that he’s enjoying himself when he spends time with him or that the things he does with Yuuri genuinely feels good even if Yuuri isn’t doing as much compared to Victor. For Yuuri, however, it’s still a concept that’s difficult to grasp.

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since we first met, I’ve wanted to become your sugar daddy. Not just meeting once or twice...I want to support you in all the ways that I’m capable of.” Yuuri blankly stares at Victor, so many things coming to mind but not having a way to say them. “You look like you want to say something, Yuuri.”

“Oh…yeah. I guess I do…”

“What is it? If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you.”

Silence envelopes the air between them as Yuuri gazes into Victor’s eyes. He can’t afford to be roundabout with his desires now, especially when Victor wants to hear Yuuri’s honest thoughts. What he says here will decide if he’ll ever see Victor again. All this time, he’s been worried that Victor will end things here, but in reality the choice has always been Yuuri’s to make. And he already knows the answer.

“...I’d like to see you more, Victor.”

With a soft exhale, Victor smiles a bit, and suddenly the air between them is no longer tense. “More? Just how much is ‘more’, Yuuri?”

“As...as much as possible.”

Victor chuckles. “How about this: we meet up sometime this week, and we can negotiate our schedule from there on out. We’ll also figure out the details of payment then.”

Yuuri breathes out before responding, deciding not to think about the monetary aspect of their next meeting as much for now. “That sounds good.”

“Good. Because I’d like to see you more, too. As much as possible,” Victor repeats Yuuri’s words, and it’s impossible to decipher the expression on Victor’s face as he reaches out, brushing some of Yuuri’s hair behind his ear. “I already can’t wait for our next meeting. This is only the beginning, Yuuri. We’re just getting started.”

Yuuri initially takes that in a sexual sense, but as he continues to stare at Victor he remembers all the things Victor said he wanted to do for him while they were at Everest. Gifts, advice, company...he won’t just be experiencing sex with Victor. If it was anyone else, he would be much more hesitant to jump headfirst into a sugar relationship, which he only started legitimately considering a week ago. But if it’s the man sitting next to him, the man who asserted that Yuuri was his equal, the man who’s made him feel secure for the first time in weeks, if not months, Yuuri isn’t afraid to trust him. His response tells Victor just that, in five simple words.

“Then...I’m in your care.”


	6. Terms and Conditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7/25: Hey! I changed my Twitter! It’s @_ryoseirui_ now! @katsudongs is still me, just a backup account! -Rui
> 
> If you’ve noticed our tags, you’ll see that this chapter has some material that may be difficult for some to read. If you’re one of those readers, consider reading this chapter once you’re feeling up to it. To add on, a lot of the emotions Yuuri has in this chapter can hit close to home...so please keep that in mind when reading this chapter and future chapters, for that matter.

“How’s it looking…?”

“Hm...how many turtlenecks do you have, Yuuri?”

“Oh god, is it that bad? Not even _you_ can hide them?”

“Well, they’re definitely not as dark as they were when you came back on Saturday,” Phichit snickers as he dabs a little more concealer onto the back of Yuuri’s neck. The yellow and green correctors are already applied, but there’s just a bit more makeup that needs to be added.

“But they’re still there, and I don’t have enough collared shirts to keep covering them up without makeup,” Yuuri sighs. “At least class starts later today, and you can help me with hiding them. Thank you, Phichit.”

“No problem!” Phichit chimes as he applies a layer of setting powder on the foundation. “I always knew that the set of foundation I gave you for your birthday would come in handy one day. Done!”

Yuuri gets off the toilet and turns around, his back facing the bathroom mirror. He turns his head and looks at Phichit’s work, anything but disappointed. He can almost forget where the marks are, if not for the memories that are still fresh in his head about that night. Just thinking about it makes his skin tingle.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Anything for my sweet Yuuri,” Phichit teases, tucking the rest of the makeup back into his pouch. “Just be careful, if you poke at it too much it can rub right off.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yuuri smiles, thanking Phichit again. “There’s still some time before we need to catch the train to class, so we can just rest.” Yuuri looks at the time on his phone, glad that they still have another ten or fifteen minutes until they should catch the next train that comes by.

“Okay! That reminds me, Leo showed me this really cool song the other day, I should show you!” Phichit says, pulling out his phone while both of them walk to the couch, taking a seat.

Suddenly, a soft thump can be heard outside their door, making both of them flinch. They don't usually hear such a noise, and after a glance of understanding between them, they decide to investigate it.

Phichit opens the door and spots a cardboard box on the floor, an unfamiliar logo printed on the top. “Did you order something online, Yuuri?” he asks as he bends down to see whose name is on the package. “It says it’s for you.”

“For me? I haven’t ordered anything in a while…,” Yuuri ponders. Phichit picks up the package and hands it to Yuuri, and closes the door.

Yuuri walks with the package and places it on the dining table, which they use more often for studying than eating. After glancing around to look for something to open the box, he remembers he has his keys in his back pocket, and takes them out to open it.

He pulls out the plastic packaging, revealing the printed label on the front of a tightly zipped set of...fabric? “Twin-sized sheets and comforter,” Yuuri reads out loud, his confusion mounting. “I didn't order this…”

“Maybe your mom?” Phichit curiously chimes in, peeking into the box.

“I never asked her to…” He pulls the package out of the box, catching sight of two folded up pieces of paper atop the rest of the wrapping, one bigger than the other. Yuuri takes the larger sheet, hoping there’ll be any clue on who sent the package in the first place.

The paper is a receipt. And the price is the first thing he notices. “Eight hundred?!” Yuuri exclaims. “Who..?!”

Yuuri scans the rest of the sheet, suspicion bubbling in his stomach—until he finds an all-too-familiar name at the bottom of the paper.

“...Order for Victor Nikiforov.”

He should’ve known. The memories rush back to him. It was the day after their second meeting had ended, a Sunday night while Yuuri was doing his homework, that he received the message.

_[By the way, Yuuri, what kind of bed do you have?]_

_Yuuri stares at the message, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Only after a whole minute passes does he pick up his phone and hesitantly answer, not knowing why Victor is suddenly asking him this._

_[A twin...why?]_

_[No reason…]_

_“There’s definitely a reason,” Yuuri mutters under his breath, catching Phichit’s attention from across the table._

_“Is he already asking to meet you again?”_

_“No...he asked me what kind of bed I sleep in?” Yuuri repeats, and the look of apprehension on Phichit’s face directly mimics the one Yuuri had just a moment ago. “I don’t know...it’s probably nothing important.”_

“So...he bought you bedsheets _and_ a watch?”

“He’s so…,” Yuuri starts but is unable to finish, a bit flustered as he looks at the other piece of paper. As his fingertips make contact with it, he can already tell the material of the paper is sturdier, and as he takes it out of the box he can feel intricate swirls and patterns engraved into the thick border. Yuuri sits down to read it, Phichit standing right behind him. Flipping it over, Yuuri is a bit startled to see his own name in wispy cursive, yet knows his name wasn’t printed onto the paper. As he unfolds it, he notices that the handwriting inside is light and slightly slanted, and Yuuri can already tell who’s hand was at work without seeing the signature at the bottom.

Since you liked it so much, I got one for you! Don’t worry, it’s washed.

-Victor

Phichit is stunned, to say the least. He frantically unzips the packaging and feels the smooth satin, then pulls out the set so Yuuri can feel it as well, nearly throwing the fluffy white comforter over Yuuri’s head.

“Yuuri! Did you and Victor use these bedsheets when you—”

“No!” Yuuri immediately turns to Phichit with a horrified expression.

“Are you sure, because he said he had it washed!”

“We didn’t use this set, Phichit, we were on a king sized bed!”

“...Oho?”

“Why do I always do this…,” Yuuri groans at the slip of the tongue, burying his face into the fluffy white sheets. “I don’t even really like these sheets.”

“But according to his note you do?”

“I just said that when I was hiding under the covers so I wouldn't have to look at him the morning after! He was like a god! It's so unfair…you too, you’re so energetic in the morning...”

Phichit bursts out laughing at the new information. “You're a night owl, so I envy your ability to stay up all night, if that makes you feel better.”

“He's so…,” Yuuri sighs into the sheets, defeated. “Extra. He's unbelievably extra. It's not like I needed sheets… “ That fact bothers Yuuri the most. Why does Victor have a tendency to give things Yuuri never says he needs? First extra money, then a watch, and now a set of sheets? What would be next, a car?

Yuuri immediately wipes that thought from his mind, knowing that if Victor ever tried to do that he would be eternally indebted to him.

“It's not about being extra. I mean, I don't think it is,” Phichit counters, patting Yuuri’s head in teasing consolation. “He just wants to treat you to stuff.”

“But I don't _need_ that.”

“But you deserve it.”

The trace of sudden seriousness in Phichit’s voice makes Yuuri turn his head to see Phichit frowning slightly. “I wouldn't say I do.”

“Yuuri, when's the last time you let yourself take a legitimate break from dance, from school, from work, from bills, from _life_? What makes you think working yourself to the bone is what you deserve?”

“You know the answer already,” Yuuri responds calmly, and all goes silent. Phichit doesn’t know the exact details, but as Yuuri says, Phichit does know the answer—even though he knows that doesn’t justify his best friend punishing himself for it.

“I just wish you would give yourself at least a little credit sometimes. I definitely don’t have the strength to do what you’re doing, Yuuri.”

After a few moments, Yuuri exhales and buries his face in the sheets once again. Yuuri knows Phichit gets worried for Yuuri all too often, but Yuuri’s accepted the way things are for him. The Yuuri Katsuki that came over to Chicago more than a year ago isn’t the same one that’s in their apartment, dealing with the stress of rigorous schoolwork and debt he doesn’t know if he can repay himself. He does see some hope in Victor, but it isn’t as if he’s eager to dump his financial baggage onto the CEO’s shoulders, even if he wants to. After months of juggling work, school, studying, dance...

_“Just tell me, and I'll give you the world.”_

Knowing that Victor is capable of changing Yuuri’s life so drastically is terrifying to him.

“Does it smell like him?” Phichit’s taunting tone is suddenly right next to Yuuri’s ear, making goosebumps erupt on Yuuri’s arms as his head shoots up.

“P-phichit! It’s washed…,” he reminds him, then stares down at the blanket. He inwardly curses Phichit for his sudden urge to get a small whiff of the blanket now that Phichit’s pointed out its scent, regardless of the fact that he’s had his face planted in it up until now.

“...Yuuri, you know you want to smell it now that I’ve pointed it out,” Phichit reads his mind.

“Phichit, stop teasing me!”

“I’ll give you five seconds, okay?” Phichit giggles, turning to face away from Yuuri as Yuuri halfheartedly glares at him.

“Stop teasing m—”

“This is your only chance,” Phichit playfully warns, the room going dead silent afterwards.

Yuuri can’t help it anymore. _Stupid Phichit…_ He glances at his roommate a couple of times before hesitantly leaning in, simultaneously pulling on the blanket a bit. Closing his eyes, he takes the smell in. He’s immediately reminded of the close proximity he had with Victor that night, the way his back pressed against his and his lips made their mark all over Yuuri’s body. _Fuck...it’s washed, why does it smell like him? Or is it the fact that it’s the hotel’s sheets, and not his scent? He was wearing cologne that day…or maybe it’s all in my head..._

Yuuri freezes, a deer caught in headlights as the sound of a camera shutter fills the room.

“Whoops. I didn’t silence it…”

“Phichit Chulanont, I’m going to break your phone in half.” Yuuri rises from his chair and lets the comforter slip out of his fingers, noticing how Phichit looks both amused and terrified. Then, they break into a chase, Phichit circling around the couch and the dining table and going through the kitchen while a flustered and annoyed Yuuri follows at his heels, trying to snatch Phichit’s phone away.

“I’m not going to send it to anyone except you!” Phichit breathlessly tries to reassure him, laughing as he continues to run.

“I don’t need to see it!”

“Alright then, I’m saving it and making it into a meme!”

“PHICHIT!” Yuuri lunges for Phichit’s phone but narrowly misses, Phichit taking advantage and putting more distance between them.

“I’m titling it ‘When your sugar daddy smells good’,” Phichit wheezes out, his stomach beginning to hurt from laughing so much.

“That’s way too literal!” Yuuri’s ears burn as he confronts Phichit on the opposite side of the dining table, both of them freezing.

“I guess you’re right…then, ‘When the bed sheets smell like him’?”

“Phichit, I swear—”

“Okay, okay,” Phichit gives up, setting his phone on the table as he doubles over to clutch his stomach. Yuuri immediately walks over and takes his phone, growing more irritated as he sees that Phichit has changed his password. “It’s actually a pretty funny picture, though, so I’ll keep it for myself.”

“Why did I choose to move to an apartment with you?” Yuuri questions, sighing in defeat and walking back over to the package.

“Because you love me!”

Yuuri simply huffs in amusement, deciding to pick up the box.

“Okay, okay, I’m done teasing you for now,” Phichit says as he stands up. “But you have been getting quite a few presents lately, you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah…,” Yuuri exhales, getting ready to head to their bedroom so he can store the new sheets in his closet. He does his best to fold up the sheets that Phichit pulled out from the packaging, pushing them inside the plastic casing and making a mental note to take them out later so they won’t wrinkle too much. Whether he’ll actually use them, he still doesn’t know. He glances around, seeing the order slip on the floor and walking over to pick it up.

“It’s a little unnerving sometimes. Makes me wish I was able to treat you to more things back then.”

Yuuri stops in his tracks, frowning at Phichit. “Don't say that.”

“I know, I know…”

“You were a great boyfriend,” Yuuri reminds him, crouching down to pick up the paper, “but we’re still students. It's not like we had a ton of money to spend on each other.”

“I _know_ ,” Phichit replies, pouting slightly, and Yuuri laughs a bit.

Their relationship had lasted a little over half a year, after Yuuri finally opened up to his energetic roommate and discovered they were both deeply passionate about their shared interests. Both of them wanted to know more about each other, and once that first door was opened, it made room for so much respect and support for each other, and eventually love. Though the love was strong, the fear was stronger. They were afraid of losing the friendship they had if they were ever to break up. It was an amicable split, with no regrets—they were content with this.

“Did Victor buy a set for me?” Phichit kids.

“Haha,” Yuuri deadpans, walking back over to the box and noticing something strange: the height of the package definitely doesn’t correlate with the size of the box, regardless of how much plastic wrapping there appears to be.

“...Yuuri?”

Not giving an answer, Yuuri immediately scatters the contents of the box onto the table, the sheets covering up their textbooks and notebooks, and freezes once he pulls out a package that looks eerily familiar to the one he encountered just a few minutes ago. Continuing, his heart pounds as he finds replicas of every sheet he just pulled out within the folds of the wrapping

“Did he…?”

“...Yeah,” Yuuri murmurs. He doesn’t know what to say. Victor doesn’t even have to buy Phichit anything since he isn’t seeing him, let alone buy Yuuri sheets, so he’s completely baffled. Maybe it was out of pity that Yuuri would be spoiled, but Phichit wouldn’t? Yuuri doesn’t understand what Victor’s intentions are at all.

“...I’m speechless,” Phichit starts, picking up the other set of sheets. “He didn’t have to—he’s not seeing me. Can you ask him why, Yuuri?”

“I was about to. You read my mind,” Yuuri says as he takes his phone of his pocket. “I’ll ask him while we’re on our way. We need to get to class.” Yuuri notices the time when he unlocks his phone. The surprise delivery consumed the time they were supposed to be relaxing, and the train was going to come soon.

“Alright!” Phichit says as he sets the sheets he was just holding back onto the table. He picks up both backpacks, handing Yuuri his. “We can put the sheets away when we come back. Let’s go?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri smiles, taking the backpack from Phichit’s hand. Phichit walks out of the apartment first, and Yuuri locks up behind them. With most adults at work and children at school, the walk down the stairs is a quiet one. Despite it being spring, the day is a cold one, and Phichit shivers as they reach the entrance to the apartment complex, the front door and gate closing behind them and locking automatically as they exit.

“I should’ve brought a sweater...Yuuri, lend me one?”

“I don’t carry around spare sweaters,” Yuuri laughs a bit, glancing at Phichit as he pouts and rubs his arms. “I told you to wear something that would cover you up better.”

Their relaxed banter continues down the street, the sound of traffic a gradual crescendo as they reach a busier intersection. Yuuri enjoys the sparkle in Phichit’s eyes as he suggests they go out to eat for dinner. Yuuri may not have been able to pay rent, but he still has a few hundred dollars in his account that he can use. Once they reach the red line station and board, Yuuri opens up Sweet Meet on his phone, seeing that his and Victor’s conversation from Sunday night is the last thing they talked about recently. After thinking for a few moments, Yuuri sends his message.

[Thank you for the sheets...I really wasn’t expecting that.]

The response from Victor comes in a matter of minutes. [Well, you looked like you really liked it.] Yuuri can hear the teasing tone in Victor’s voice, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. _It’s almost noon...shouldn’t he be at work? Is he texting me_ during _work?_

[I’ve never gotten so many expensive gifts from someone in so little time…] Yuuri answers, then decides to send another text. If he’s going to start seeing Victor more often, he has to get used to disclosing more about his thoughts and feelings. [I’m kind of at a loss.]

[Why’s that? It might be better for you to get used to it. After all, I don’t plan on spoiling you any less.]

Victor is right, and Yuuri knows he’s right, but the constant reminder that Victor is fully intending to spoil Yuuri makes him simultaneously excited and queasy. He wants to reciprocate the benefits that Victor is giving him, but at this rate he’ll owe the CEO his life.

[I mean...I know I’m giving back with my company, but I feel like I could be doing more…]

[Well, that’s why we’re meeting up tomorrow, right?]

Yuuri momentarily locks his phone as the train comes to a stop where he and Phichit transfer onto a bus, sighing at the other reminder Victor just gave him as he waits. His contemplative aura is obvious to Phichit, who decides not to intervene for now.

Yuuri can say he’s prepared to meet up with Victor and talk about their schedules, but when it comes to money he wishes he could avoid the subject altogether—which is completely illogical, considering Victor is the textbook definition of a sugar daddy, except the superlative. Victor already sent him texts the day before, reminding him to print out a copy of his university billing statement, financial statement for the current academic year, and schedule. Yuuri’s never disclosed so much information to someone he knows so little about, but he knows it inevitably has to happen. After a moment of hesitation, he turns on his phone and replies to Victor.

[Yeah…]

[Don’t worry, Yuuri. I’m here to help you, remember?]

[I know.] Yuuri bites his lip, wondering if the message he just sent was a bit too straightforward. Before he finds out, he decides to change the subject in hopes that Victor won’t ask him if anything’s wrong. [Also, Phichit says thank you. We both didn’t expect you to get him sheets too.]

[It’s not a problem!]

[But both of us are wondering…why?]

[Phichit makes you happy, right?]

Yuuri looks at his friend, who’s sitting next to him now that they’ve boarded the bus. No matter what kind of relationship they had or have now, Phichit makes him happy. His life in Chicago would be drastically different without him.

[Yeah, he does.]

[Well, if he makes you happy, I want him to be happy. Does that makes sense?]

[I guess…] The fact that Victor is willing to provide not only for Yuuri, but people in Yuuri’s life, is something Yuuri never expected. It makes him wonder just how far Victor is willing to go. One part of him wants to ask, while the other never wants to find out. He glances down as another message from Victor pops up.

[I thought matching sets would be nice, too!]

That logic is a bit easier for Yuuri to accept.

“C’mon, Yuuri,” Phichit calls out as he stands, pulling Yuuri out of the world of Sweet Meet as they get off of the bus, walking towards campus. They have different classes on Wednesday—by pure miracle, Yuuri only has one class on Wednesday compared to Phichit’s three, the rest of the time which he uses for solo dance practice—so they won’t meet again until later that evening. The campus is relatively quiet, the crisis of midterms and finals momentarily wiped from most students’ minds with the start of the spring quarter.

The two part ways as Yuuri walks towards his classroom while Phichit goes to his lecture hall, Phichit reiterating his excitement about going out to eat before running off to catch up with a classmate. Yuuri’s still about half an hour early, the bus and train having run faster than usual, so he sits in the nearby café while waiting for his class to start. He pulls out his phone, absentmindedly scrolling through Instagram before a thought crosses his mind, making him pause. He closes out of Instagram and opens Sweet Meet back up, minimizing his chat with Victor, then looks at all the profiles before him, of all the people that could’ve been.

 _I wonder how things would have turned o_ _ut if Victor was completely different...or if someone had contacted me before Victor did..._ He scrolls through all the pictures of people, all very different from each other, from professions and age, to appearance and interests. They’re all so different that Yuuri really can’t tell who would be a good match for him, if Victor hadn’t come along. Contrary to Victor, most of the profiles constituted a picture of the person in question. Many of the profile pictures were people in formal attire at parties Yuuri is sure he’d never be able to go to, or people casually dressed while a tropical background surrounds them. It gives a sense of their success, of their wealth. _And then there’s Victor, with his dog_ , Yuuri thinks, honestly a bit amused at how out of place it is when put into the context of the rest of the people on Sweet Meet. But something about that is endearing. Victor isn’t one to flaunt his success unless prompted to, as he was during their first time—most likely aided by the lust between them that night—and the things he gets excited over are as mundane as the things that Yuuri gets excited over, the prime example being dogs. It’s probably another reason why Yuuri feels more comfortable around Victor than he would have expected.

He never realized how many people were on the app, and it makes him think about how many people may have looked at his profile without him knowing. He’s been on the app for almost 2 weeks now, so there has to be at least a handful of people who have read through what little is given through the preview of his profile and seen some his pictures. Yuuri selects his profile and takes a look at it one more time, wondering if anything should be changed since the day he set it up.

Everything about it is fine, nothing standing out, until he skims over the preferences section. When the app asks how many sugar relationships one would like to have, the app’s default answer is “open”, the other option being “exclusive”. Yuuri remembers the day he set up his account, how he had decided to simply go with the option that would give him bigger chances of meeting up with a sugar daddy. Even now, his preference is set to “open”. _Would I even be able to handle seeing more than one person at a time?_ Yuuri didn't pay any attention to it before, but now that he’s getting to know Victor more, he’s not sure. Victor is already sure that he wants to support Yuuri, and has made it clear time and time again. Yuuri sighs. On one hand, he doesn't want Victor to shoulder his burden all by himself, but on the other hand, he doesn't know if there will be anyone just like him if he reaches out to someone else on Sweet Meet.

_Maybe I should change it when I have a clearer answer…after all, how many people are like Victor? How many people would not only give me gifts, but Phichit as well? Would they be attracted to my body as much as Victor, and treat me as kindly as Victor if we ever did get intimate? What if…Victor had never contacted me? He did say I was the first person he had ever met through the app, so he might not use it much in the first place…it must be a miracle that he even opened the app that day… Would I still have been able to match with someone?_

Yuuri snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the classroom doors open, and people chatting as they leave. It’s the signal for him to pick up his backpack and head to his class, to get in a mindset ready to learn. He can’t afford to think about anything else in the next hour and a half.

Yuuri picks up his backpack from his feet and walks into the classroom once everyone has left. His professor is sitting at their desk, sorting out a few papers and adjusting their glasses as they prepare for the next class. Yuuri watches for any sort of contact, a glance, a murmur of “good afternoon”, but encounters nothing. Instead, Yuuri makes his way to his usual seat, noting only a few other people in the room.

As Yuuri sits down, opening his bag, he opens a folder to find his billing statement staring him in the face. He panics, closing the folder and searching for the papers he needs by thumbing through the stack of worksheets via the top right corner of each page. The people who tend to interact with him aren’t here yet, which is a relief, but he also subconsciously wonders if someone behind him saw the monstrosity that is his net tuition.

To be completely honest, showing anyone information this sensitive is the last thing Yuuri wants to do. But tomorrow, that’s exactly what he’ll be doing.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Yuuri’s learned his lesson.

His billing statement and other information aren’t in the folder he uses most often anymore. Instead of being able to easily access the papers, he has them all grouped together in a yellow catalog envelope, a metal clasp keeping it shut. It’s separated from the rest of all his supplies, in a small pocket he found in the largest section of his bag. There’s no way he can take it out by accident.

There isn’t a reason he would, anyway, in his first class of the day on Thursdays: text and performance. Lately the class has been alternating between lecture and hands-on activities, and today Yuuri won’t have to listen to a lecture. The teacher isn't bad, but after ten minutes of continuously hearing the same voice it takes effort for Yuuri to not space out. The activity, on the other hand, offers a nice distraction from his upcoming meeting with Victor, which he was promptly reminded of on his way to school in the morning.

_[I have a place we can meet up. How long is the gap between your first and second class?]_

_Yuuri looks down at his phone, Phichit listening to music beside him and not noticing the new text from Victor. After thinking for a moment, Yuuri replies. [Well, it takes some time to get there and back...so we probably have around two hours.]_

_[Then, how about I have my chauffeur pick you up?]_

_The cliche scene immediately runs through Yuuri’s head: walking out of the building, dozens of students staring as a sleek black car pulls up to the front and the chauffeur calmly steps out, students staring with mouths agape as the chauffeur opens the door to the backseat and motions for Yuuri to step in, and suddenly Yuuri isn’t a dime-a-dozen student anymore as the chauffeur calls him “Mr. Katsuki.”_

_[No thanks.]_

_After several exchanges with a confused Victor, Yuuri manages to convince him to send him the address of where they’ll be meeting up._

Heading back into the classroom, Yuuri begins to feel them. A flutter in the pit of his stomach, the sign of a brewing storm. Today he isn’t spacing out, and contrary to what he’s expecting, until now he was completely calm, going through his day like any other. On days when he’s less stable, he’ll usually be hypersensitive to his surroundings, restless, thinking of the worse case scenario. But until now there was nothing. He doesn’t know if that’s good or bad yet, and as he grabs his things from the classroom, sending a quick text to let Phichit know that he’s heading over to meet Victor, another flutter makes him take a deep breath.

_We’re just going to talk. I can do this. I just...need to show him the papers…_

Yuuri doesn’t register how quickly he walks out of the building, waiting for the bus at the corner of the street. Today is just as cool as yesterday, so Yuuri is wearing a sweatshirt, something he never thought he would wear to meet Victor. However, he doesn’t have time to go all the way back to the northside just to change his clothes unless he wants to be late to his afternoon classes. Right now, he just needs to focus on the goal at hand.

_Show him the papers...talk about payment...talk about schedules...payment…_

As he sits at the back of the bus, he doesn’t notice how his feet tap against the floor, drawing the attention of a few passengers for several fleeting seconds before they go back to their own lives, the fidgeting student the least of their worries.

 _He’s going to see everything...he_ has _to…_ Closing his eyes, Yuuri takes a deep breath, the envelope in his bag suddenly feeling much heavier than before. _Maybe I can tell him I forgot the papers? He wouldn’t believe that. No, he would probably make me pull up my online billing statement instead, and that would just reveal that I was lying to him. I don’t want that. I don’t want to lie to him. But when he finds out the truth…_

Yuuri just barely manages to hear his stop being announced, scrambling to transfer busses before the next one leaves him in the dust. This time the bus is several times more crowded, and Yuuri hangs onto the railing as the bus makes a sharp turn onto Michigan Avenue, the scenery already familiar to him. Contrary to their previous two meetings, he’s meeting Victor in the middle of the day, when both of them are engrossed in their daily lives, so starkly separate from each other. It makes Yuuri wonder how he was able to get into this situation in the first place. If he had known all this would happen…

 _If I knew I had to tell him about everything_ …

Yuuri’s foot taps against the floor as he shakes his head slightly, doing his best to clear his thoughts. Right now, he just has to focus on doing what he has to do and getting it over with. Victor is a busy man, and he certainly doesn’t have time for the anxious tendencies of a college student.

As he usually does, Yuuri pulls out his phone, scrolling through social media to distract himself from the impending meeting, the envelope in his bag, the tapping of his foot, his unsteady heart, his jumbled mind. His eyes register pictures of the theater, dancers in elaborate costumes with elaborate sets and packed auditoriums and plies and arabesques and god, Yuuri wishes that could be him. But the way things are going now, Yuuri’s dream is becoming exactly what he calls it—a dream. Unattainable.

_But...Victor…_

_“Michigan and Monroe.”_

Yuuri glances up as the bus begins to slow down, reading the heading at the front of the bus and recognizing it as his desired stop. The realization that he’s within walking distance of his destination—within walking distance of meeting Victor—fully hits him as he steps off of the bus, part of him wishing he could board it again and go straight to his apartment. One voice in his head tells him to run away. The other, the one he listens to while doing his best to ignore the other, tells him to keep walking, to cross the street, to turn the corner and cross again, to enter the building, to—

“Ah, Yuuri!”

That voice stops him in his tracks.

Victor walks towards him, looking as cool and collected as usual. Contrary to the previous times they’ve met, Victor exudes an aura several times more professional than Yuuri is used to. He doesn’t want to admit it, but at the moment Yuuri finds it less appealing and more intimidating. Swallowing, Yuuri tries to shush the voice in his head telling him to turn around, to run out of the building and get on the bus and go back to class and shred the envelope and—

“How are you?”

“Uh…,” Yuuri manages to put on a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s go up,” Victor motions for Yuuri to follow him, then notices his confusion. “Ah, it’s a rooftop bar that I wanted to bring you to. I figured you would want to be somewhere private where you could be more comfortable. Is that alright?”

The fact that Victor kept Yuuri’s comfort in mind even when deciding where to meet up is slightly comforting, and Yuuri takes his offer, following him to the elevators. Being a bit past noon, Yuuri hopes the place Victor wants to take him isn’t too packed.

“How was your first class?” Victor asks once they’re in the elevator, and Yuuri does his best to offer an interesting response.

“It was fine...it’s not fully lecture based, so...” _Ah, I don’t know what else to say…_ “And it’s not as boring as some of my other classes…” _That sounded bad…_

“That’s good,” Victor responds. Silence follows, the tapping of Yuuri’s foot muffled by the carpeted floor of the elevator. Thankfully, they reach their desired floor in the next few seconds, and Victor lets Yuuri walk out first before following.

The mingling of voices is the first thing that catches Yuuri’s attention—that and the movement of people as they walk to their tables or sit at the stools facing the bar. The tables set out around the bar remind Yuuri of picnic tables, and he sees that a number of families are there as well. Yuuri can’t help but wonder what Victor defines as a private atmosphere. If it’s this, it differs from Yuuri’s own definition drastically.

“It’s more crowded than I thought...it is spring break for high schools, though,” Victor thinks aloud, putting a finger to his lips. After a moment of thought, he turns to Yuuri. “Would you like to go somewhere else?”

As much as Yuuri would like to accept the offer, he knows that their time is limited, and he doesn’t want to waste Victor’s any further. Fortunately for him, he spots a table near the corner of the room and motions to it. “We can sit over there…”

“Are you sure?” Victor asks, and although Yuuri knows he means well, Yuuri immediately answers with a “yes” that reveals to Victor that Yuuri doesn’t need to be babied, even if he is feeling nervous.

Victor walks over to the table, Yuuri following behind him, and once they sit down a waiter sets down two menus. Yuuri doesn’t have much of an appetite, so when Victor asks what he’d like to eat he offers a small smile. “I’m fine with water.”

“Ah...alright,” Victor murmurs in response. “I’ll just get a drink as well, then.”

The waiter comes by, glancing at Yuuri and Yuuri declining the offer to order, and he finds himself staring at Victor as the waiter walks away. What should he say first? How should he bring it up?

“How are you enjoying the bed sheets?”

“Huh?” Yuuri blinks, then blushes slightly. “Oh...we put them on yesterday…it’s been a while since we bought some. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Victor smiles softly.

Their brief conversation comes to an end as the waiter comes back with Victor’s drink, setting it down as Victor thanks him. In the moments of silence following his leave, Yuuri decides to drink some of his water as well, a feeling of foreboding bubbling up in his chest. It’s only a matter of time until the subject comes up.

_How do I tell him everything…?_

“Well?”

“Yes…?” Yuuri responds hesitantly to Victor’s vague question.

“We can start with payment, or we can start with your schedule. What do you want to talk about first? It’s up to you.”

_Oh._

Yuuri definitely doesn’t want to explain his financial situation in full just yet.

“We can talk about my schedule first,” Yuuri says, to which Victor nods. “What days are you free?”

“I do have to work every weekday, but I’ll be free in the evenings. The weekends are usually free, but sometimes I have to go to events, including business trips and parties. I’ll keep you updated whenever something comes up, if you decide that you’d like to meet on either Saturday or Sunday.”

Yuuri nods, accepting the proposal for the updates. He recalls his own schedule, the countless minutes he stared at it last night, able to rehearse what’s written on it perfectly. He could bring out the envelope now, but he honestly doesn’t need it.

That, and he would rather not take it out just yet.

“On Mondays I have class until 6:20, and Tuesdays and Thursdays I go until 4:30. I get out the earliest on Wednesdays at 2:50, and on Friday I get out at 4:00. Friday is the day with the most classes, especially lecture based ones. I practice for my dance composition class on Mondays and Wednesdays after school, and I have dance crew practice until nine on Tuesday and eight on Thursday. I start pretty early every day, but I only have one class on Wednesday that starts at 1:30, so I got to sleep in a little bit yesterday. Friday afternoon, Saturday, and Sunday were all dedicated to work and homework, but ever since I quit my job a couple of weeks ago, the day we first met, I’ve been swamped with more free time than I know what to do with...but I’ve been using it to study and practice more.”

Yuuri hears the scribbling of a pen on paper and looks up to see Victor writing down his schedule in a grid he drew out himself. Victor has everything Yuuri just said written down and is currently pressing the end of the pen against his cheek. Victor’s eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s concentrating on making sure that he picks days that will be the best for Yuuri.

 _Oh…he’s so handsome when he concentrating…this must be what he looks like while he works..._ At least for a moment, Victor’s charm manages to calm the butterflies in Yuuri’s stomach while he waits for Victor’s answer.

“Does meeting on Wednesdays after practice and Saturdays seem good with you? I want to make sure that it doesn’t cut into your study and practice time,” Victor looks at Yuuri. “I’ll make sure you make it back to your apartment on the same day on Wednesdays, too. I don’t want to make you late for your classes.”

“Ah...class starts at 9:30 on Thursdays, so...that seems doable,” Yuuri cautiously responds. He remembers that both wanted to see each other as much as possible, and two days a week seems like it can work without overwhelming Yuuri. If anything, he can just shift some of his responsibilities to the weekend, which is perfectly fine by him.

Victor smiles at Yuuri. “I’m glad. Don’t be scared to tell me that you need to switch days, or need to take an off day. Your wellbeing is what's most important.”

All Yuuri can do is nod slightly at that. He’s heard that phrase countless times before. “I will…”

“Let’s take a break this Saturday, though.”

“A break…?” Yuuri repeats, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah. I have a feeling your body might need it,” Victor chuckles.

Yuuri immediately feels heat rush to his face, knowing Victor is right, but he does something he doesn’t expect. He isn’t sure it’s his nerves, or the voice in his head telling him he has to be more direct with Victor, but he doesn’t stop himself as he laughs a bit and responds, “I’ll get used to it soon enough.”

For a staggering moment, Victor’s eyes widen in surprise, and Yuuri braces himself for the consequences, already on the brink of spontaneously combusting due to how much he’s blushing. _Did I go too far? Should I have kept quiet? But I can’t pretend like I didn’t say that...I can’t believe I let that slip…_

Then, everything unwinds. Victor’s eyes soften, his lips curl into a small smile, and he puts an index finger to his lips, proud of something Yuuri is completely unaware of. “So...I’m taking that as a yes to the break?”

Yuuri eagerly nods, feeling his blush calm down slightly. Victor takes a moment to sip his drink, Yuuri mentally thanking him a thousand times over for giving him some time to calm down. However, it’s short lived.

“You remembered your schedule pretty extensively, if I do say so myself,” Victor suddenly remarks. Yuuri stiffens a bit. “It almost sounded rehearsed.”

“Well…I’ve just started the spring quarter, so I’ve been studying it myself to get to know it better…” Yuuri knows that’s not the only reason. The papers in his envelope, including his schedule—he was looking over them all night, to the point where their image, weight and size are imprinted in Yuuri’s mind, able to be conjured up at any second. Any other person would take a few moments to recall the details of their schedule and then relay it to someone else, especially if it’s a new one. Yuuri took mere seconds. “And...I’ve been practicing what to say, since this _is_ what we came here to talk about…”

“Hm...I see,” Victor calmly responds, understanding something through that exchange that Yuuri doesn’t have to say aloud. “Well then, let’s get to the other matters. If you're ready.”

Yuuri immediately knows what Victor is implying, taking a moment to calm his nerves. _Just get it over with as quickly as possible..._ He slides his arm out of one of the handles and swings his bag around, grabbing hold of the zipper and sliding the largest pocket open. The mustard orange of the envelope is the first thing that catches his eye, both because he’s looking for it and because he was hoping he wouldn’t find it. Reaching in, he manages to slide the envelope out of the small pocket, then looks at Victor. They both know what’s in the envelope, obviously, but handing it over to Victor, letting Victor open the folder and look over the papers, watching as Victor finds out just what kind of financial strife Yuuri is going through—it’s more than just a physical act.

After a few moments of silence, Yuuri sets his bag down and holds out the folder to Victor, doing as best as he can to mentally prepare himself for whatever Victor’s reaction will be. Someone like Victor, handsome, rich, considerate, organized, seeing Yuuri’s failures written on paper...Yuuri doubts the impressions are good ones. It isn’t as if every mistake Yuuri’s made is documented on the bills, of course. It takes reading between the lines to see that Yuuri only has financial aid and loans to support himself. One needs to go beyond reading to figure out that Yuuri made a mistake along the way that put this burden on his shoulders.

Victor wordlessly reaches out and accepts the folder, looking down as he unfolds the metal clasp. His hand reaches in, and out come the papers. Yuuri already knows what order they’re in: his financial aid letter from the university, a billing statement from the current month as well as the beginning of the school year, the rental fee for his and Phichit’s apartment, and finally, his schedule. He wishes he had reversed the order before putting them in the envelope so that Victor could start with what Yuuri worries about the least, but instead Victor encounters Yuuri’s largest stressor first and foremost.

The silence between them is drowned out by the clatter of plates, and Yuuri does his best to focus on that instead, as well as the other sounds and sights of the bar. The short waiter. The child running around a table in the distance. The high-pitched shriek. The embarrassed shush. The smooth wooden surface of the table. The brick walls. The glass ceiling. The ceiling fans. The bead of water rolling down his cup, lower and lower, gaining speed as it gathers the condensation around it, rolling, falling, crashing—

“Yuuri?”

He blinks a few times, reminding himself that he’s still sitting with Victor, stagnant, still, static. “Yes…?” he murmurs, waiting for criticism.

“Have you been paying this much since your freshman year?”

Victor is sharp. Too sharp.

“No...my freshman year was easier…,” murmurs Yuuri, then decides that, in order to be as transparent with Victor as possible, he needs to tell him more. “I had a couple of scholarships that were helping me out...but I don’t have them anymore.”

“Hm...they were only for your freshman year?” asks Victor, and although Yuuri knows he’s wondering out of simple curiosity, he wishes Victor had never asked that.

“They were for all four years...one for dance, and another based on how I did in high school…”

“Then…?”

“There were prerequisites. I didn’t meet them.”

Yuuri notices the way his tone of voice is changing, becoming more distant, colder. He’s never comfortable with talking about finances, period. Victor, however, seems undeterred. “How much was their combined value for a year?”

Yuuri thinks for a moment, remembering when he’d first received his financial aid package. Logging onto a website, reading through the letter, his electronic dictionary at his side all the while, doing the math, converting to yen to put it in a perspective that was easier to understand for him, then staring at his computer in awe as he realized that his dream was in his grasp. His heart doing somersaults as he ran downstairs, the savory smell of katsudon wafting through the living room where his father celebrated a goal his favorite soccer team had made. His older sister being the first to notice her brother in tears, followed by his dad and his mom once she walks into the room. Standing together, his family embracing him as he let his built up stress wash away until he was ready to talk. Sitting together at the table while Yuuri explained the two scholarships he’d received, how they covered a bit less than half of his overall cost, then factoring in the need-based aid he’d received and how it brought down his net price even further. Glancing back and forth between his parents in anticipation, and his heart stopping once his parents gave him a smile that said more than words ever could about how proud they were, and how much they would miss him. His father grinning proudly, his words still echoing in Yuuri’s head to this day.

_“Become the best dancer in Chicago! I want to hear about you all over the news!”_

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri stiffens slightly, realizing he’d spaced out, and luckily remembers Victor’s question. “Together, they were about…forty thousand. I got about fifteen thousand in federal aid...I didn’t take out any loans the first year.” _Just get it over with._

“Ah, that makes sense,” Victor murmurs, more to himself than Yuuri. “How did you pay off the remainder last year?”

“My parents contributed...they wanted to pay for all of it, but I wanted to help out since I was the one that decided to study abroad, so I put in a few thousand from working over the year.”

“I see. Are they helping you this year, as well?”

Yuuri nods. “They’re contributing the same amount as last year.”

“Even though you have to pay several times more this year?”

“Yes.”

There’s silence for a moment, a question hanging in the air. Yuuri knows what it is, and Victor already knows that answer.

_You haven’t told your parents?_

Yuuri makes no move to venture into that territory, instead picking up his water and downing about half of the cup. He knows he has to get into detail with Victor, but he doesn’t want to. His mind is screaming against it, even though he’s convinced that he can trust Victor. His contradictory thoughts make him purse his lips, simply waiting for Victor to continue his interrogation of the student in front of him.

“...You must know more English than your family, then,” Victor suggests, knowing that the statement may hurt to hear.

“They...know enough,” Yuuri compromises, knowing that his definition of enough drastically differs from what his parents would define as enough. Yuuri’s “enough” makes him both relieved and guilty that his parents aren’t fully aware of all the intricacies of paying for college—the federal aid, the scholarships, the grants. The loans. “I let them know how much they pay each month...and they pay it.”

“You must have a good grasp on English, for you to be able to understand all the information regarding your tuition.”

And yet, Yuuri’s “enough” isn’t enough for a country practically halfway across the world.

Yuuri remembers the first day he started struggling in class. It’s one thing to translate from Japanese to another language, and another entirely to translate from Japanese, then to English, then to a third, new language. This is what he wanted. This is another step towards his goal, his dream, the reason he ventured into a new country. And for the first time, he feels himself slip.

_“Yuuri? Can you translate this for the class?”_

_His heart is pounding in his chest as he scribbles notes on his paper, the mental translation of Japanese and English coming easily, but the third language, the new letters, the pronunciation, his voice, his voice won’t work, blood pounds in his ears_ _—_

_“That’s alright. Someone else?”_

The world won’t wait for Yuuri. He learns that the hard way.

“...is difficult as it is.”

“Huh?” Yuuri blinks, looking at Victor.

“What?”

“I just...I didn’t catch that.” The flutter in his stomach is slowly gaining speed, evolving into a whirlwind of memories that he never asked to remember, especially not now. He came here to discuss payment, to figure out his and Victor’s schedules, not this. Not to remember.

“I was saying that you’ve done a good job.”

“Uh…”

“Moving across the world is difficult as it is,” Victor repeats for Yuuri. “Yet you have a great grasp of English, and seem to be doing just fine on your own.”

 _Victor thinks my situation is “fine”?_ “English was probably my best subject in high school...I practiced it a lot in my free time, too…”

“It paid off,” Victor smiles slightly. Yuuri can’t reciprocate the expression. If only Victor knew.

He remembers the first time he felt the pressure. Sometimes, dreams can turn into nightmares.

_Yuuri opens his laptop as soon as his literature class is over and he’s back in his dorm. Phichit is still in the middle of class, so right now he has the dorm to himself, which is what he wants. He only has a little bit of time before his next class starts, but his professor said that the first midterm scores should be online. He needs to check. He can’t tiptoe around it forever. Even if he already has an idea of what his grade is._

_Yuuri logs in to the student website, and once the page loads, clicks on the subheading for “Academics”, then the “Grades” category._

_He feels his heart sink._

If I had only studied harder, _is all he can think, seeing the D in the slot for his midterm grade. Working more than half of the days of the week, practicing for dance, staying up countless nights_ _—he saw this coming, but couldn’t prevent it._ _Of course, his other grades for the class cushion it slightly, but it puts such a dent in his overall grade that he knows he won’t be able to bring it up to the prerequisite unless he works harder, involves himself more, regardless of the cost._ I need to try harder on the next midterm…and even harder on the final…if not...I’ll fail everyone at home who’s rooting for me…but most of all, I’ll be failing myself…

_His heart pounds against his chest. He logs out, closes his laptop, glances around the room, and feels utterly lost. But he knows he doesn’t have time to stop and think. He has work again tonight._

“Yuuri?” Victor’s voice snaps him out of his memory.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Yuuri apologizes, but the sinking feeling in his chest hasn’t left him from that day. If anything, it remained, festered, even as he found support in Phichit.

_“Yuuri? Yuuri, what's wrong?” Phichit worriedly walks over to Yuuri, who’s face down into his pillow on his bed, facing the wall. The initial pressure is beginning to crush him, and he sees no escape._

_“I…I did bad on my second midterm… I don't know if I can get my grade up in time for the final…” Yuuri manages to choke out between sobs._

_“Are you failing…?”_

_“No, but...the scholarships…” He doesn’t know what went wrong. He stayed up countless nights, did his best to learn the material, resisted nodding off in class, studied during his break at work—yet it wasn’t enough. It won’t be enough, if he continues like this._

_“Yuuri…you know the best way to study for yourself,”  Phichit encourages him as he rubs Yuuri’s back._

_“The best way is how I’ve been studying all year…” Yuuri’s voice breaks near the end, and Phichit falls silent for a few moments. If there’s anyone who knows just how hard Yuuri’s been trying to stay afloat despite all his impending responsibilities, it’s Phichit._

_“You just have to do what you can, Yuuri. I know you’re not the type to give up. Have you tried requesting a few days off of work so you can focus on your exams?”_

_“If I do that, I won’t be able to meet this month’s payment...I don’t want to deal with more debt...I don’t want any more stress...but…” Yuuri’s chest swells with pain, and he clutches the pillow tighter as a loud sob racks his throat, unable to stop more tears from springing to his eyes. “I don’t know what I should do right now...I can’t do anything…I’m the one who put myself in this situation, and now I’m stuck…”_

“...Yuuri? You've been spacing out a lot,” Victor’s voice intrudes, Yuuri not realizing that he immediately went gone silent and into his memories again after Victor snapped him out of it.

“Yeah…sorry, this is all just hard to bring up…” Yuuri’s head hangs low.

“Did you hear what I asked you?” The slight impatience in Victor’s voice, whether he meant to let it slip or not, doesn’t go unnoticed by Yuuri.

“No…” _He was talking to me?_

“I was asking when you started struggling.”

There it is. Victor’s seen beyond the papers in his hand, and now he’s staring at Yuuri, waiting for an answer.

“...Last year. In the spring quarter,” Yuuri mumbles, already knowing that he’s remembering too much. Anything beyond what he’s already recalled will only crush him.

 _Yuuri arrives to the library and pulls out his laptop, ready to start his homework. He knows that if he doesn’t start it now, he won’t be able to finish it at night. The last few weeks have been especially grueling, since his current job requires more physical labor than his last one, and he often finds himself passing out, then scrambling in the morning to finish his homework. As usual, he checks his email to make sure there aren’t any class announcements regarding school work_ — _and immediately regrets it when his eyes catch a certain message._

_At the very top of his inbox is an email from his academic advisor._

_[Dear Yuuri,_

_I hope the spring quarter has started off well._

_I just wanted to check in with you. If you would be interested in scheduling a meeting with me in the Undergraduate Programs Office to discuss your grades, we can help assist you on your path towards academic success.]_

_Yuuri just wants to close his laptop. He’s trying his hardest, but he can’t catch up, and his advisor knows it. They didn’t explicitly say anything in their email_ _—to anyone else, just “checking in” would sound normal—but Yuuri knows better_ _. It doesn’t help that Mari sent him a text earlier in the week, telling him that finances were a little tight on his parents end, and he immediately took up the rest of the expenses for the few remaining months. In times like those, it’s Yuuri’s impulsive side, the passionate one, the naïve one, that makes those decisions, and he regrets it._

_Months ago, Yuuri would have believed that he could manage all this. He would believe that he was capable of getting through this. But now he knows better. He knows his limits. He knows what he can do. He knows what he can’t. And right now, he can’t only rely on himself. It’s not enough, it’s never enough, he isn’t enough, he’ll never be enough—_

I shouldn’t have come here.

_He closes the tab and rests his head on the table, hiding his tears and impending panic attack, something he doesn’t want to have in front of everyone in the library. Sure, there have been other people who have done the same thing during finals week, but he doesn’t want anyone to see him right now._

_Five, ten, twenty minutes pass by, and soon enough, Yuuri is able to at least stabilize his breathing, enough for him to hold back his tears and sit up, open his email again and send a response through shaky hands and blurred vision._

_[Hello,_

_I would be happy to meet with you. I am available after class tomorrow, which ends at 2:50. Will you be available at 3:00?]_

_Yuuri sends the email, and not even ten minutes later, he gets a response._

_[Yuuri,_

_Yes, that slot is available. I will write you in for an appointment. I’ll see you soon.]_

_Yuuri gulps. He knows the meeting tomorrow will be everything he doesn’t want to hear. He already knows._

“What kind of help did you get?”

Victor’s voice cuts through yet another memory, but it’s less sharp than Yuuri remembers. His voice sounds muffled to Yuuri’s ears, because he’s already remembering the next day, the shame, the indignation, the anger. The submission.

_Yuuri walks into the program office, his head down as he sits in the seat in the office for visitors._

_“Good afternoon, Yuuri,” his advisor greets, to which Yuuri greets her back. He silently follows her into her office, sitting in front of her desk. “I just wanted to talk to you about your grades. For the first quarter, you are aware you were in good academic standing, but you just barely made it. However, in the winter quarter, your GPA went down and landed you in academic probation. You understand that if this continues, you will be dismissed.”_

_“I understand.” Yuuri’s voice is tense, hanging from a thread. He doesn’t need this within a week of the spring quarter. If anything, this is only further breaking down his confidence and ambition._

_“Do you need any study tips or resources for your classes? Maybe a planner that will help you manage your time so you can do your homework on time and plan when to study?” she asks, to which Yuuri feels like she's intruding a bit too much. He was fine with studying. He already has a planner. He talked to all his professors last week. He’s fine. He just wants everything to slow down, at least for a moment. He shakes his head, but she’s already moving on to her next point._

_Everything is too fast paced. He can't keep up. The world won’t wait._

_“You have to make sure that you get back to good academic standing, even if it's just barely, this quarter, alright?” she says, barely letting Yuuri talk. He wonders what the point of coming even is if he isn’t going to get a chance to speak, to breathe. Yuuri knows all this already. He_ knows _._

_He hates this meeting. He doesn’t know why he said he would come. He doesn’t need another person to tell him what to do, to tell him things he already knows, to treat him like he doesn't know anything and is new to the world, to waste all the time he could be using to work or study. He wishes he could just bolt out right now, but instead he just keeps nodding his head and saying “Yes, I understand.”_

_But his routine is broken when she says one last thing before he leaves the office._

_“If you don’t get your grades up, you will jeopardize your scholarships.”_

_At that, Yuuri is silent. He can only imagine how much harder things will get if the two scholarships he has slip from his fingers._

“...I take it you haven’t completely talked in depth about this with anyone else?” Victor asks. Yuuri’s been mostly silent for the last few minutes, and he has no idea what to do. However, he isn’t completely clueless. He can see Yuuri spacing out. He can see his body shaking slightly. He can see Yuuri’s mouth half-open, having so many things he wants to say. Victor tries to offer some encouragement. “I know it’s hard, Yuuri...you’re only twenty, and such a large responsibility shouldn’t be put on your shoulders like this. But I’m here to help you. Even if you don’t think you deserve it,” he says as he reaches over the rubs his thumb over Yuuri’s hands, which are resting on the table. His voice is soft, full of understanding and reassurance, but the shaking of Yuuri’s hands persists.

It’s just so hard to believe that someone with so much power and money, someone so handsome, so kind, is so set on helping Yuuri make ends meet. He’s done nothing to deserve it—in fact, he would say he’s done everything to warrant all the hardships currently placed upon him. Yet, despite all that, why is Victor Nikiforov taking his time with him, actively looking for him and seeking to assist him in every way he can think of? Why is Victor so set on helping him financially? How is he capable of taking that burden off of Yuuri’s shoulders in the blink of an eye, when he’s been struggling for months? It’s too much to think about.

Yuuri waits for Victor’s next question. Will it be about his family? How many loans he’s taken out? How many jobs he’s worked?

Silence.

Yuuri's used to hearing so many things regarding his situation, how he should feel, what he can do, what he should do, but suddenly realizing that Victor is silent shocks him. _Why isn’t he saying anything?_

Then he notices. Yuuri’s gaze is glued to his lap, his hands are trembling, his body feels cold, his feet are still tapping. His glass of water is abandoned, countless beads of water having slid down onto the table. Yet Victor’s drink is untouched as well. Victor is just as still as he is. And as Yuuri looks up to meet Victor’s eyes for the first time since they began talking about Yuuri’s situation, he sees that Victor is gazing at him intently.

It surprises Yuuri. He doesn’t know whether Victor is going to ask him something else or just stay silent. At the moment, he’s completely unreadable. Yuuri’s prepared to answer whatever he wants to ask, prepared to listen, all because Victor is suddenly the most quiet Yuuri’s ever seen him so far. But nothing comes. Those eyes that Yuuri was so entranced by when they first met are now firmly trained on Yuuri, not daring to look away, and then Yuuri knows what’s going on.

_He’s listening._

The fact makes Yuuri, ironically enough, speechless. Victor Nikiforov, who said he would provide guidance and give advice where he could, is doing nothing but waiting for Yuuri to speak. It’s different, so drastically different from what Yuuri is used to. He’s grown accustomed to listening to others weighing in on his situation, taking their suggestions into consideration, and perhaps getting a chance to exchange ideas equally. But over his first year, and especially around the time he lost his scholarships, countless figures of authority would simply tell him what he needs. Yuuri already knows what he needs.

Victor wants to know what he wants.

 _What..._ I _want?_ Yuuri questions himself, and is suddenly hit with a wave of answers, eyes widening slightly at the realization. His mouth opens, but he doesn’t know what to start with first. There’s suddenly so many things he wants to say. So many things he’s been wanting to tell someone. And finally, he’s gotten a chance.

The moment Yuuri meets Victor's eyes again after processing that thought, Victor simply smiles and asks him, "What are you afraid of?"

For a deafening moment, Yuuri’s lip trembles. Another wave of answers come, a tidal current pulling him out of his memories and into the present, with Victor. Then, Yuuri’s voice emerges.

“It’s been...a long time. I’ve been struggling with this for...a year now, basically...nothing seems to stop anymore...it just repeats, over and over again. I’m always checking my grades, looking for better jobs, rearranging my schedule, staying up at night, trying to be a good roommate for Phichit and spending time with him, I involve myself in class even when I don’t want to, I look for help outside the classroom, but they’re not coming back. I can’t get them back. I’ve improved, but it’s not enough to get the scholarships I’ve lost. It never has been. I don’t want to think about it, but I end up doing it anyway—about all the goals I had, all the things I wanted to do, and the way I’ve ended up instead. I don’t have a choice but to continue the way I am right now, I need to keep doing this in order to succeed, and if I let myself rest for even a minute I know I’ll just be a waste of time and space. But you’ve come along, it hasn’t even been two weeks since I met you and already everything is changing, and it’s so terrifying I don’t know what to do now, because part of me wants to trust you and let you take care of everything, but the other part of me just won’t stop reminding me of everything I’ve done and everything I need to do, and I just don’t think I deserve this. I don’t deserve this chance.”

The atmosphere between them isn’t completely silent anymore. Yuuri barely notices the way his breath hitches afterwards, the way his lungs began to ache at the end but he just couldn’t stop talking. It’s all out. Now, Yuuri waits for Victor. He’s still staring at Yuuri, but something in his gaze has changed, and Yuuri has a feeling Victor knows something he doesn’t.

"You're scared of having a second chance.”

 _A second chance…_ The idea is foreign to Yuuri. Yet, as he reflects on all that he said, he realizes that Victor is right.

“You're scared of being free. You're scared of being allowed to breathe,” Victor points out. Even now, Yuuri feels as if he can't breathe, just starting to regain his breath from his outburst. "Everyone deserves another chance, Yuuri. Please, let me give it to you. If it’s you, I know you’re capable of fulfilling those goals you’ve been neglecting for so long. But now you don’t have to worry about finances—as long as you want me to. You've been working hard. Let me shoulder some of your problems."

 _Am I allowed to?_ Yuuri wonders, wanting so badly to reach out and take Victor’s offer but still feeling reluctant to do so. The hesitation in his eyes is obvious to Victor.

"I really do want to give you the world, Yuuri. Not just because I can, but because I think you deserve it. You've worked so hard to be independent. It's okay to reach out for help with this, especially if your goal is a big one to reach for."

Yuuri doesn’t have to ask what “this” is. He already knows. He knew since he glanced across the table and saw Victor’s scribbled handwriting on his billing statement. “Why…?” is all Yuuri can muster, finding that he has less and less to say against Victor’s proposition.

“...Do I need to have a particular reason why?” Victor asks, pushing the statement towards Yuuri’s side of the table. Yuuri stares at it, Victor’s writing unable to be read since the paper is upside down.

“I just want to know what you see in me…” Yuuri says, the tone of his voice almost begging for an answer.

“...Potential.”

“...What?” Yuuri is surprised, not expecting that answer from Victor.

“You have so much potential, but there’s so many burdens on your back right now. I want you to be able to reach for your goals without worrying about what those goals may cost. I want to take care of them.”

Yuuri stares, stares at Victor, at the billing statement, at his empty glass of water, at Victor’s drink, at his distorted reflection in the glass, at the small pool of condensation around the circumference of the glass, and realizes that he just can’t understand Victor right now. He doesn’t know enough about him, and he definitely can’t comprehend Victor’s reasoning. But he wants to trust him.

“...What were you writing?” Yuuri murmurs. Victor glances down at the billing statement he was writing notes on, and after a moment of hesitation Yuuri takes the paper, rotating it so he can read the notes Victor took.

“That you’ll be able to pay everything in full, terminating your loans. I can also pay off the loans that you took out this year."

“Victor, that’s too much…,” Yuuri says as he looks over the contract, factoring in all the money from his loans that he needs to pay, and his head spins with the sum. _Can Victor handle that much?_

“Not at all.”

“That’s...over sixty thou—”

“I know, Yuuri. I did the math while you were spacing out earlier. Since you’re on a payment plan, I’ll give you $4,000 a month for tuition, $1,500 for loans, plus some more for your personal expenses. Is $500 alright for each time we meet?”

Yuuri’s too preoccupied doing the math in his head. _For ten months…$40,000 and $15,000 and $10,000...oh my god…wait, he plans to be with me for that long…?_

“Yuuri,” Victor firmly says, putting down his drink after taking a sip for the first time in a while. “I want to help you. Will you let me help you?”

Yuuri feels like the room—no, the entire world is spinning. He’s staring down at his drink, trying to find something to ground him, to calm his pounding heart, because this can’t be real, Victor can’t seriously be saying he’ll do all this for Yuuri, everything must be a dream and he’ll wake up and he’ll be in his bed in Hasetsu, with the cherry blossoms in full bloom outside his window and—

“Yuuri Katsuki.”

Everything freezes, and the tone in Victor’s voice compels him to look up, meeting his gaze. Victor’s been waiting this whole time. Everything is up to Yuuri.

“Will you let me help you?”

Yuuri tries to answer verbally, but his mouth is dry. _He wants to give me a chance...he wants to help me...he wants to support me._

Most of all, Victor is listening to him, something that Yuuri didn’t know he craved so much until now. If he can...if Victor, who listened to Yuuri’s rant and still said he saw potential in Yuuri, wants to...

After several long moments of staring into Victor’s eyes, he slowly nods. He didn’t notice before, but once he answers he notes that some tension seems to leave Victor’s shoulders.

“I’m glad you can trust me with your burdens,” Victor smiles softly. “Don’t worry about it at all. Payments will always be on time, and I’ll give you more if you need or even just want it.”

Victor’s suggestion brings up an important point. “How are we going to…?” Yuuri asks.

“I was doing some research, and apparently you can connect Sweet Rewards to your bank account. I’ll send over money, and you can put it in your account, and you can pay off whatever is needed,” Victor states. “And if you need more for whatever reason, just tell me and I’ll send you more. I think it’s a lot easier than having to fill out contracts stating that I'm your endorser. I don't want you to have to visit your financial aid office and have them ask you who I am,” Victor chuckles, thinking about how flustered Yuuri could become in such a situation. Yuuri knows how he would react all too well, and he can’t stop his cheeks from flushing slightly at the thought.

“Yeah...I’ll make sure to connect my account to it tonight, then.”

“That’s good to hear,” Victor smiles warmly, then slides the envelope with the rest of Yuuri’s papers back across the table.

Victor takes the last gulp of his drink as Yuuri gathers the papers he brought with him. The conversation is over in the blink of an eye, and Yuuri finds that hard to believe. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but Victor handled everything much better than he initially thought he would—especially when Yuuri began to remember too much. The folder goes back into Yuuri’s bag, not into the small pocket separated from the rest of his papers, but between folders and notebooks, just another factor in Yuuri’s life and one that he’s agreed to slowly come to accept.

Yuuri looks at Victor in apprehension as he stands, both of their drinks finished. “Come with me, Yuuri.”

“Where…?”

“You haven’t seen the view, have you?” Yuuri finds himself staring at Victor, at the soft curl of his lips, the eyes that understand him and want him and support him, and warmth erupts in Yuuri’s chest, shockingly different from when they were talking and Yuuri kept remembering so many things he didn’t want to think about. Yuuri finally realizes the new feeling inside of him. He’s at peace to a degree he hasn’t felt in months. Despite everything Victor saw, everything he heard, he isn’t treating Yuuri any differently.

“...I haven’t,” he murmurs, the new feelings flowing through him as he stands at Victor’s side.

All is silent between them as Victor leads Yuuri to the opposite side of the bar. In place of the brick walls that make up most of the bar, the wall facing Michigan Avenue features floor-to-ceiling windows, with a glass door in the middle. As some people come back inside from the balcony, Victor walks out and holds the door for Yuuri, who murmurs a “thanks” as he follows. There are so many things running through his mind, so many things to say, but he can’t do it all at once.

A gust of air greets him, making him shiver a bit. However, what truly takes his breath away is the view in front of him.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Victor murmurs.

It is.

It’s the Chicago that Yuuri first saw when he began doing research regarding studying abroad. The vast expanse of skyscrapers cradling Millennium Park, the Art Institute, the lake to the east with small boats preparing to leave the harbor, the dozens of monuments, the bikes mingling with drivers and people heading every which way, a buzzing city Yuuri immediately knew he wanted to experience. He sees the busy street below him, busses and taxis and cars filing bumper to bumper, small ants from his point of view. It’s not as crowded as a weekend, but Yuuri can still see plenty of people lining up to enter the museum and countless others going up to what the locals call the “Bean”, a metallic, curved elliptical sculpture that reflects the entire city skyline, atop a building near the Pritzker Pavilion and it’s arching metal ceiling, where the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and other musical performers gather. Yuuri knows what lies behind it. Yuuri’s imagined himself going to the Harris Theater countless times—as a performer.

Looking to his left, Yuuri can see Michigan Avenue extending to the north, crossing the Chicago River. High pitched shrieks bring his attention to the Crown Fountain. He always found the attraction peculiar, the way random faces were projected onto the rectangular fountains, water spouting from the projections’ mouths and the top, splashing down like a waterfall. He remembers going there with Phichit one day, not necessarily planning to but the muggy mid-July weather getting the better of them as they soaked themselves. Yuuri can’t help but smile at the view as well as the memory. Regardless of the stressors that have piled on him until now, he’s had plenty of good experiences in Chicago as well.

“Today’s colder than usual,” Victor notes, and Yuuri nods, glancing up. Clouds litter the sky like freckles, the sun shining through them. Strangely enough, the air is still chilly enough that the sun doesn’t make up for the colder temperatures of early April. “I envy your sweater.”

“Huh?” Yuuri laughs a bit. How would he tell Victor that his sweater is from a secondhand store he found while wandering around the city with Phichit—one that he spent an entire paycheck on once he found out just how unstable the weather in Chicago is? “I can’t even imagine you in a sweater…”

“I’ve always dressed myself up to meet you,” Victor simply responds, the fact smacking Yuuri in the face. Yuuri had always assumed Victor wore whatever he would wear at work, especially when they met on Friday. “This is what I wear to work, so it’s slightly more casual.”

Yuuri takes the opportunity to glance at Victor’s attire, noting that, compared to his previous outfits, it actually does give off a more relaxed atmosphere—black dress pants, a plain white button up dress shirt, and a suit jacket, his wrist adorned with the watch he initially took notice of when he met Victor for the first time at Everest.

“Were you under the impression that I only sleep in suits?” Victor remarks, chuckling, amused at the way Yuuri proceeds to vehemently object, flailing his arms as he defends himself.

“Y-you’re just so well dressed all the time, I don’t really have another mental image…!”

“I have a few mental images of you, but I still want to dress you up in a full suit one day.”

Victor expresses his wish so directly that Yuuri doesn’t know how to respond. He already knows how much a jacket and tie costs by Victor’s standards. An entire suit? “I-I mean...I have what you gave me…”

“But that’s surely not enough,” Victor tilts his head. “I want to get you pants, a shirt, a jacket, a pair of shoes, a pocket handkerchief, a tie—a tie especially. A _full_ suit. Would you let me do that, Yuuri? I really want to.”

Every nerve in Yuuri’s body immediately screams “no”, but Yuuri is done listening to what his mind tells him to do. Right now, he’s listening to Victor, not his anxiety. “...If you really want to…”

Victor’s smile immediately transforms into a heart-shaped one. “I’m looking forward to it! We should get a suit that complements your watch, as well.” Yuuri smiles awkwardly as Victor glances down at Yuuri’s wrist, the watch nowhere in sight. “Why aren’t you wearing it now?”

“Oh, um…I don’t really want to wear it all the time...it’s worth a lot, so I just want to wear it on certain occasions…” Yuuri rubs the back of his neck, wondering if Victor will get mad. After all, he didn’t buy the watch so it could stay tucked in one of Yuuri’s drawers. But as he looks at Victor, he recognizes an expression of contemplation and understanding, and he sighs softly in relief.

“I see…that makes sense.” The wind picks up between them, and Yuuri considers his words carefully in the comfortable silence between them, the traffic below filling the empty conversation until he decides to speak up again.

“...Victor.”

“Hm…?”

“Why did you want to pay for it in installments…? The watch, I mean...”

Victor folds his arms on the balcony’s metal railing, the wind tousling his hair. The movement entrances Yuuri, and his eyes are glued to Victor while he listens. “Well, it seemed like in our first meeting you were thinking that we would only meet once, and that was on my mind more often than you would think. If you really wanted to meet only once, I would’ve understood. But if you were anxious about me only wanting to see you once or twice, I wanted to show you that I’m dedicated to being with you. If I paid for it all at once, you might have felt that it was a throwaway present, like I wouldn’t care about what happens to you or the watch after that night. Those payments are just one of the ways I want to show you that I want to be with you, Yuuri. It was quite a subtle hint, though, so I don’t blame you for not noticing.”

Yuuri stares at Victor, who’s looking over the scenery before them. _He really thought a lot about that decision…_ Yuuri watches him for a few seconds before speaking once more.

“Victor…”

“Yes?”

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

“It’s the first thing I’ve really wanted to do in a while. Of course I want to.”

There’s something in Victor’s voice that makes Yuuri wonder what exactly he means when he says that. However, he decides to save it for the next time they meet. “...Thank you. You have no idea…”

“I’m just as excited about this as you are, Yuuri,” Victor huffs softly in amusement. The idea seems, however, impossible to Yuuri. If anyone should be excited, it’s him. How can looking forward to paying someone’s bills be exciting?

“I’ll do as much as I can,” Yuuri responds with a small nod, confusing Victor.

“You’re doing just fine, Yuuri.”

Yuuri won’t accept that. "You say that, but I know I must seem awkward to you whenever we meet..."

"That's to be expected, Yuuri. After all, we haven't spent much time with each other yet."

"I mean, it's not just that..." Victor tilts his head in apprehension, signaling to Yuuri that he needs to explain himself further. "I really hate talking about my financial situation...you and Phichit are probably the only people I've disclosed it to, and you’re the first one to know all the details. It's worse when people offer to help...I feel so weak..." Yuuri expects a response, but when he receives silence, he notices that Victor is intently listening once again. Yuuri isn’t used to it, but deep down he knows that he wants to be. "And now that you're helping me, I still feel really nervous...but I'm really happy, too. That you're doing so much for me..."

Victor smiles softly. "All I ask is that you open up to me.” His tone immediately tells Yuuri that Victor is being completely honest—the only thing he expects from Yuuri is to be more open about his feelings and desires around Victor. He turns away from the view, facing Yuuri. “You’re not weak, Yuuri. You and I may seem worlds apart, but I'm just within your reach.”

It’s a prospect Yuuri never would have thought possible, but as he stares at the man next to him, he realizes that in more ways than one, he’s already reached out to Victor. He just never saw it himself. "...It'll take some time..."

"That's alright. Whenever you decide to open up, I'll meet you where you are."

The simple statement offers Yuuri some comfort after the roller coaster that was their conversation inside the bar. There’s no need for him to rush. Victor is here, waiting, listening. Supporting him.

A weight in Yuuri’s chest lifts in that moment, and he finds himself much calmer than he has been in the past few days.

“Yuuri, will you be alright getting back? Do you need a ride to campus? I know you said you wanted to take public transportation, but are you fine with how much time it’ll take?” Victor asks as they leave the bar, entering the elevator again. Yuuri looks at his phone, realizing that he has less than forty minutes to get back. If he takes the bus now he won’t make it to his class on time unless both of his drivers are breaking the speed limit, and he can’t afford to miss his next class since it’s one of the more challenging ones. Yuuri bites his lower lip.

_I need to open up more. I need to let him help me. It’s okay to ask for help. Give yourself a chance, Yuuri._

“That would be really helpful,” Yuuri responds, to which Victor’s face unexpectedly lights up.

“I’m glad! He’ll be here in 2 minutes, and you’ll be on your way back to class! Just tell him the name of the building you need to be in and he’ll drop you off right in front,” Victor smiles. “I texted him a while ago just in case you wanted to take up my offer. I’m glad I did.”

Victor offers to wait with Yuuri in the lobby of the building, but in almost no time the chauffeur pulls up in front of the building, ready to go. “I’ll see you next week,” Victor waves to Yuuri as he walks towards the revolving door, and Yuuri softly smiles back, glancing back a few times as he makes his way over to the car. Victor is already barely visible, his own reflection in the glass more apparent from a longer distance. He receives the customary greeting from the chauffeur, and in a matter of seconds silence surrounds him as he steps into the car, the door shutting softly behind him.

Once Yuuri tells the chauffeur where he’s headed, the car ride is quick, getting Yuuri from downtown to Hyde Park in less than 30 minutes. Yuuri gets dropped off in front of the building that his next class is held, and he notices a familiar face walking out as the car pulls away from the curb and travels down the street, out of sight.

“Phichit!” he calls out, waving a hand over his head. In the blink of an eye, Phichit spots his best friend and grins before jogging over to him.

“I thought you were going to come back later?” Phichit asks. Having learned his lesson yesterday, he’s wearing a black hoodie with white lining down the sleeves.

“Well...I got a ride back, so it didn’t take as much time as it would be by bus,” Yuuri responds, rubbing the back of his neck with a small smile. The expression immediately makes Phichit relieved. Just this morning, Yuuri was acting colder, closed off, and seeing that the meeting with Victor went well makes him proud of Yuuri for confiding his struggles in someone else.

“How’d it go?” Phichit asks, curiosity thickly coating his words and letting Yuuri know that he wants all the details. Yuuri smiles a bit, knowing he has a lot of explaining to do.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri’s drifting off while brushing his teeth when he hears it.

Over the past week, it’s become more and more frequent to hear the tone of his phone go off, a sound notification just for Sweet Meet that Yuuri decided on after meeting with Victor the day before. With the weekdays finally coming to an end, Yuuri finds it surprising to hear the sound so late at night—it’s nearly midnight, a time at which Victor usually doesn’t text him. The sound isn’t unwelcome, though.

Victor asks him random questions at random times, and Yuuri’s moved past the initial fear that Victor may be plotting to buy him other things whenever he asks him a question. He hasn’t gotten many chances to ask Victor questions, since he’s the one usually answering them, but he finds the experience relaxing, something he does to unwind once class is over and he’s heading back to his apartment.

 _Maybe it’s a goodnight text?_ Yuuri wonders, rinsing out his mouth. _I don’t see what else he would be sending a text this late for…_

Phichit is already in bed by the time Yuuri walks into their bedroom. Phichit has a job and works longer shifts on Fridays, whereas Yuuri has several long, lecture-based classes all in a row—neither of them have the energy to stay up much longer. They murmur goodnight from opposite sides of the room, the light already turned off. Before Yuuri turns in for the night, though, he makes sure to reply to Victor.

The initial brightness of the phone makes him squint his eyes as he presses the lock button. His finger swipes up and he immediately adjusts the brightness of the screen to put less of a strain on his eyes. Once they’ve adjusted to the new luminosity, he stares at his lock screen, wondering if his eyes still haven’t fully adjusted yet. However, several more seconds pass, and Yuuri is certain he isn’t misreading the notification.

It isn’t a goodnight text. It isn’t even from Victor.

**[You have one new message from S.L.]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our Twitters!  
> Rui: @_ryoseirui_  
> Alexia: @NeedMatcha


	7. Exclusive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the month, both of us are going to be in very different timezones, and we’ll both be starting college. As you can figure, while we’ll still be communicating with each other as we always have, finding time to write at the same time, when our motivation is at its peak, can be difficult. From here on out, we simply ask that you be patient with us. We promise this fic won’t be left behind until it’s finished, and even then it’ll be hard to let go.
> 
> A 14 hour time zone difference won’t hurt us one bit! [strong arm emoji] -Rui
> 
> On a side note, I'd like to thank everyone who left comments here and connected with us through Twitter to let us know how much they liked the last chapter. Rui and I value realistic portrayals and connecting emotions of the characters with our readers tremendously, so seeing last chapter resonate with so many people makes us the happiest people in the world, even if only for a moment. The amount of people freaking out over the cliffhanger was also very satisfying to see... <3 -Alexia
> 
> Alexia's birthday is coming up soon as well! September 11! Keep on the lookout for "Chihoko"... a surprise I set up for Alexia... huhuhu. -Rui
> 
> ALSO! Warning: Just like last chapter, this chapter has some material that may be difficult for some to read (anxiety/anxiety attack). If you’re one of those readers, consider reading this chapter once you’re feeling up to it.

There are two reasons Yuuri accepted.

The train begins to accelerate as it departs from the station, its start uncharacteristically slow with the weight of people in the cars. The start of the baseball season is taking its toll, especially on public transportation. Even though more trains are running than on a typical weekday, there’s still a multitude of people coming out to support their favorite teams, all chattering loudly about their predictions for the upcoming season. Yuuri sits in a seat near the doors, watching people shuffle in and out of the train in their fan attire, completely different from what he’s wearing. His pants, shirt, jacket and tie are the same outfit he wore to his first meeting with Victor—but this meeting isn’t with the man who bought him the watch on his wrist, a new addition to the outfit.

The first reason is that he wants to help Victor.

Yuuri replays the same train of thought in his head. The more he says it to himself, the better of an argument it seems. It’s not as if he necessarily doubts himself, but this experience is somewhat of a new one, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. _If I had two sugar daddies, then the amount of money Victor agreed to pay could be split in half…the burden would lessen, and it would be easier for Victor. Paying for my tuition, loans, rent, and basically everything else is a lot to handle for one person, even if it’s Victor. I want to make it better for him…_

Yuuri won’t deny that the choice is a bit of a selfish one, but it doesn’t hurt to try, especially if it’s a win-win situation in the end. He’s grateful for what Victor is willing to do for him, of course—to a degree that he’ll probably never be able to explain in a way that properly justifies his feelings. However, being able to receive more money at the expense of someone besides Victor would be beneficial to them both.  
  
That doesn’t mean he was eager to tell Victor. In fact, he didn’t tell him at all.  
  
_Traitor_ , a voice in Yuuri’s head taunts, and he sighs softly, ignoring it as best as he can. Just how lucky is he to meet with a second potential sugar daddy on the day he and Victor agreed to be a day off? Yuuri is doing anything but taking it easy tonight, especially considering how nervous he is. He’s already met with Victor, experienced what it was like to meet a stranger and give them company for the first time, but this is different. This isn’t Victor. He can’t expect a perfect copy of him.

 _“North and Clybourn is next,”_ the pre-recorded voice of a man announces through the speakers near the doors, and Yuuri looks up when he recognizes it as his desired stop. He glances down at his new watch afterwards and thanks himself for leaving early. With all the commotion on the train, it definitely took longer than expected. He certainly doesn't need a repeat of his and Victor’s second meeting—at least not the commute.

After checking the time, Yuuri’s focus shifts to the accessory itself. It’s an impulse gift from Victor in some ways, a promise in others, but it’s the fanciest thing he has—”fanciest” almost always translates to priciest for Yuuri—that can make a good impression on this new potential sugar daddy.

[Are you there yet, Yuuri?] comes a message from Phichit. They both decided that Yuuri was prepared to meet someone new on his own this time.

[Yeah, once I get off of the train I just have to walk a little further.]

The brakes of the train screech beneath him, Yuuri leaning against the partial wall between his seat and the train doors, looking through the doors’ rectangular windows as the train begins to stop, signs announcing the name of the station fleeting in and out of view. As he stands, his phone vibrates in his hand, and once he’s off of the train and exiting the platform he takes a moment to read and respond.

[Sounds good! Have fun!]

[Thanks.]

Yuuri continues to respond to Phichit’s texts, walking towards the restaurant. He makes sure that he puts his phone down when he crosses the street and whenever he’s done with a text, so that he’s not walking into anyone. He’s already nervous enough due to his situation, and he doesn’t need to risk paying too much attention to his phone to embarrass himself, especially when he’s already so close to the restaurant.

[I’m almost there.] he sends once he's safely crossed.

[Woohoo! Get it, Yuuri!]

Yuuri chuckles at Phichit’s energetic response and puts his phone in his pocket, knowing that it’s the last emotional comfort he’ll receive before he faces this new stranger. He looks around the area and spots the building that looks like the one on Google maps on his phone. He was hoping it would look a little more friendly in person, but he only feels more intimidated at the structure. A modern two-story building, with gray bricks of various shades and a curved wall on the left side of the front with square windows divided into smaller squares to form a grid. The blinds are completely drawn, not even a sliver of the view inside visible. Yuuri is having a hard time believing that he’s about to enter a restaurant and not a shady apartment. He never bothered to ask what kind of restaurant they were going to, and he was only given the address of the building in front of him without further explanation.

Once Yuuri finds the entrance, a set of dark grey doors made of what seems like steel, with long silver handles, and to top it all off, down a small outdoor hallway that gets darker the closer to the entrance one is, Yuuri smiles slightly to himself and wonders if the person who contacted him got the address wrong. The restaurants he’s been to with Victor were warm, welcoming, elegant. This, in contrast, is dark, cold, minimalistic. He doesn’t have a problem with it, exactly, but it’s different from what he’s used to, and the fact that he’s meeting a stranger doesn’t help much.

 _Here goes nothing_ , Yuuri thinks as he walks forward, trying to ignore the increasing darkness as much as he can as he reaches the double doors and pulls on the handle, stepping inside. The sounds of the street fester for a few seconds, and with the swing of the door behind him they’re shut out.

For a brief moment, Yuuri wonders if his irrational fears of being kidnapped were simply premonitions of this moment. In front of him is a long hallway with carpeted floors and what he assumes are white walls. He can't tell for sure with red lights illuminating the entire hallway, making him wonder if he was invited for dinner or murder. It’s similar to how he felt meeting Victor for the first time, except a million times worse. _Who decided to bathe the hallway in red lights!?_ Yuuri disbelievingly questions. _Is this supposed to be welcoming?_ Rather than a restaurant, he feels as if he’s teleported to a haunted house. Despite a voice in his head telling him to get out before things can get spookier, he makes himself walk down the dead-silent hallway. It doesn’t help much once he comes across a set of steel doors to his left with no handles in sight. His reflection is vertically stretched and grainy, not being able to discern where his hair ends and his suit begins, where his shirt and pants meet, or why he’s still here. Why he decided to come in the first place.

Then he remembers the very specific moment he had with Phichit that very morning. He knows the answer to the last question, at least.

The second reason is the dog.

_“Um…morning, Phichit…” Yuuri peeks out of their room to see Phichit already up and about in the kitchen with all the energy Yuuri doesn’t have._

_“Morning, Yuuri! What’s up?” he greets with a bright smile and perfect eyeliner. Yuuri wanting to talk on a Saturday morning before 11:30, which is when he’s finally fully awake, is a rare occurrence, and judging by the tone of Yuuri’s voice, Phichit assumes Yuuri has something he wants to tell him._

_Yuuri takes a deep breath, then gets right to the point. “Before I went to sleep last night, someone messaged me on Sweet Meet…I haven’t checked the message yet. I haven’t even unlocked my phone since then, actually...”_

_“Really? Want to look at it together, then?” Phichit suggests, knowing they’re the words Yuuri wants to hear. With a nod from him, they both sit on the couch and Yuuri unlocks his phone, clicking on Sweet Meet’s icon. He swipes to the right, revealing the menu, and selects his inbox. There’s only two people there, which are Victor, his name fully revealed now that they’ve met, and…the new one. S.L. Even without selecting that person, Yuuri can read their entire message through the preview window._

_[Hello. I’m interested in being your sugar daddy. I’d like to take you out tomorrow.]_

_“Wow. Straight to the point,” Phichit points out._

_“That’s…a little intimidating,” Yuuri admits, the frankness of the text not exactly giving the warmest impression. “What should I say back…?”_

_“Maybe you should look at his profile before you respond. Check out his picture!” Phichit says, and presses on S.L.’s profile for Yuuri before he has a chance to do it himself._

_The profile loads, and small bits of his information show, just like Yuuri’s own profile. He isn’t going to make the mistake of skipping over someone else’s profile anymore. “It says he’s 28,” Yuuri announces, honestly a bit surprised given Victor's age. He expected someone similar, maybe in their mid to late thirties, but instead got someone younger._

_“What’s his picture like?”_

_But silence comes after Phichit’s question. Yuuri’s eyebrows furrow as he brings the phone closer to his face to get a better look._

_“Yuuri?”_

_“Phichit… there’s a dog with him.”_

_“Dogs again!?”_

_“Geez...every picture besides this one is of his husky…” Yuuri appreciates the sudden pictures of the white and black Siberian husky with ice blue eyes, but it's not exactly helping him out._

_“Is there something in your profile that would attract people with dogs?”_

_“...I put dogs as one of the things I like…,” Yuuri sheepishly confesses._

_“I can't believe both of the people who've contacted you are crazy enough about their dogs to put them in their profile,” Phichit laughs at him._

_All joking aside, Yuuri feels weird. There’s something different about this person, at least compared to Victor, but Yuuri knows he can’t judge too early. Besides…_

_“Where's that picture with him?” Phichit wonders. In response, Yuuri swipes through the pictures until he finds the first one: “S.L.” sitting on a dark green sofa with the same husky sleeping on his legs, his arms comfortably settled on its fur and a nonchalant expression adorning his face as he looks down at his dog, the warm light from a lamp on the left casting shadows on the left side of his face. Yuuri stares at the mysterious man, his jet black hair and dark eyes and firm nose, and Phichit does the same, the silence prolonged as they wait for one of them to break it._

_“He’s…,” Yuuri begins._

_“...not bad,” Phichit finishes for him, and they both nod in agreement._

_“What would you do, Phichit?” Yuuri asks earnestly._

_“I’d go for it, honestly. I mean, you said you didn’t have a preference on your profile. If you’re on the fence about it, might as well try, right?” Phichit encourages._

_Yuuri thinks about Phichit’s words while weighing the options. He technically has nothing to lose from meeting S.L._ — _just like Victor was, this person is a complete stranger._

 _Victor_.

 _Guilt twists his stomach, but Yuuri does his best to ignore it. This is his choice, after all, and assuming Victor's looked at his profile he knows Yuuri may meet with someone else while simultaneously seeing Victor._ I’ll take my chances… _Yuuri bites his bottom lip and starts to type once he navigates back to S.L.’s message, pressing send before he has time to hesitate._

_[I’m free today. My name is Yuuri Katsuki, by the way.]_

_The response comes after Phichit and Yuuri eat breakfast, a simple sentence that reveals only a bit more, but not much in the long run._

_[My name is Seung Gil Lee.]_

Yuuri jumps as the steel doors suddenly pull away, revealing a black marble tiled floor and a mahogany host stand. Glad to encounter a setting devoid of red, he doesn't hesitate to walk past the doors, watching them slide closed behind him. On either side of the doors are long rectangular black leather chairs devoid of armrests or backs. One of them is vacant. The other is occupied by a singular man.

He has one picture of Seung Gil to go by, but it turns out he doesn't need it. He can tell exactly who Seung Gil is by the way they're sitting, silent and as still as he was in his profile picture on Sweet Meet, and Yuuri can't tell if he's uptight, extremely casual, or cold. None of them sit well with Yuuri. None of them are quite like Victor—

 _No, stop_ , he chides himself, _of course he's not like Victor. He_ isn’t _Victor. Stop comparing a total stranger to him._

Seung Gil stands as soon as Yuuri makes his way over to him. _Ah...he's shorter than me_ , Yuuri notes, then scolds himself for getting distracted. As punishment, Yuuri decides to make the first move, clearing his throat before speaking. “I'm Yuuri...are you Seung Gil?”

The man in front of him simply nods, surprising Yuuri. It isn't the nod itself that surprises him, but the nonchalance that causes an awkward silence to surround them afterwards. Wondering what he should do, Yuuri simply gives Seung Gil a small smile, one that's returned with a blank stare that only makes him feel like he's trying to communicate with a brick wall.

Thankfully, a waiter walks up to them and Seung Gil immediately responds to them, leaving Yuuri to wonder if he's done something wrong or if this is just what he has to deal with. After all, Seung Gil was just as frank in his messages as he is now. There's no reason to feel unsettled. Yet, as the waiter leads them up a staircase cradling the curved wall and into a secluded hallway with several pairs of chairs along the perimeter, Yuuri feels an uncomfortable weight pressing against him, a dull blade pressing into his chest, not enough to hurt him but more than enough to make him feel self-conscious.

They sit across from each other, a menu set down on their left. Water is poured into their glass cups, and in a matter of seconds the waiter is gone, leaving the two of them only with each other.

Yuuri's eyes flutter, trying to grasp onto something. The tableware. The empty wine glass. The silver rim of his plate. The glint of gold on his watch, the second hand ticking, 36, 37, 38…

_What would Victor do?_

He looks at the current page the menu is open to, barely processing the fact that he opened it. The dark-haired man in front of him is calmly turning his page of his menu, making no move to speak. He can tell the conversation depends on him, and he needs to say something.

"Um...Seung Gil?" Yuuri speaks up, and can immediately notice that his voice is trembling.

"Yes?" comes the direct response.

"You said someone cancelled on you, right...?"

"Yes."

 _Well, that got me nowhere._ Inwardly sighing, Yuuri decides to prod further, to see if he can initiate conversation. "Is that...a usual thing?"

"More or less,” another short answer comes from Seung Gil.

"They must be busy..."

"I wouldn't know. I've never met them."

"O-oh..."

"I didn't know the one from this morning, either."

The smile plastered on Yuuri's face is an awkward one. "Ah." _This morning?_ Yuuri stares at Seung Gil for a few moments, partially in disbelief and partially expecting an answer—he doesn't get one, which isn't surprising at this point—but he decides that asking him about this morning probably wouldn't be a good idea. He shrugs it off, but it stays in the back of his mind.

The two of them sit in a silence Yuuri can't really describe. It's not tense, but the lack of conversation combined with Yuuri's expectation to be led by Seung Gil and topped with the fact that they've never met makes the silence thick and uncomfortable. Seung Gil on the other hand, sitting on the other side of the table, doesn't seem to mind. _I guess he's just a man of few words..._

Yuuri clears his throat. "Have you been to this restaurant before, Seung Gil?"

"Yes."

"How is the food?"

"I wouldn't make reservations for a bad place."

He says it plainly, like a well known fact, and Yuuri bites his lower lip. _I guess he's right…_ he thinks to himself, but the whole point of the question was to talk about something, anything to break the silence that sits between them. _If it were Victor, he would be asking questions like no tomorrow..._

He finds agitation slowly clawing it's way into his mind. Gulping, Yuuri tries again. "Then..." Silence follows. As if he doesn't exist. "What do you recommend?"

Seung Gil pauses for a few seconds before responding. For a moment, it seems like he’s contemplating his answer, but it's a short one, and then it's back to curt answers and flat tones. "It depends on what you like. I don't know what to recommend otherwise."

Finally, a flicker of hope appears, and Yuuri clings to it like there's no tomorrow. "I like seafood...," he proposes, waits, prays that something good will come out of the exchange. The statement is really only half true, but he could care less.

"I don't like seafood. You can look on page three, though."

In the blink of an eye, Yuuri's hopes are extinguished, encountering only more frustration. Is he the only one trying here?

Yuuri just can't help but think about his first meeting with Victor. Yuuri's first question for him had him rambling for at least 10 minutes about Makkachin. It was a question in the spur of the moment—Victor probably knew he asked it out of embarrassment—yet Victor earnestly answered it to a degree Yuuri wouldn't have predicted. But one question with Seung Gil barely gets him anywhere.

When he asked Victor about the menu, Victor gladly answered his questions on a personal level, but Seung Gil...Yuuri can't find the right word for him. He doesn't want to see him in a bad light since he knows he's probably overreacting, but the way things are going doesn't give him good prospects.

Blunt? Yes.

Aloof? Yes.

...Cold? Definitely.

It isn't a bitter or biting cold, one that's trying to tear him down. The cold aura Seung Gil has is a kind of numbness. Frozen. Stagnant. Yuuri isn't used to it, and knows he won't be able to adjust to it well under these conditions. Not when he’s used to being surrounded by the warmth, the radiant light that Victor exudes without even having to try.

He stops himself before his mind can digress into thinking about Victor again, knowing it won't make anything better. Yuuri sighs before risking another attempt to engage with Seung Gil again. "What will you be getting?" he asks, seeing if Seung Gil will answer like Victor did before.

"The menu is just to look at, really. The experience here is emphasized. The courses are already chosen.”

Yuuri wishes he knew what Seung Gil could possibly be talking about. _The experience? To look at? Did he even answer my question?_ "So...you paid beforehand?" Yuuri murmurs, scared to ask but also only being able to come up with that in response. Seung Gil's answer makes his blood run cold.

"Yes. About $400 each."

Yuuri's silent after hearing that answer. It's not as if his response was an alternative way to be told to shut up, but rather that Yuuri can't speak—he’s frozen in place.

Victor and Seung Gil are completely different when it comes to money, but Yuuri can't figure out what it is that makes them so different.  
Silence falls between him and Seung Gil again, and Yuuri can't find anything else to say. Seung Gil definitely won't start a conversation either.

Yuuri feels trapped.

The awkward air between them is only exacerbated once their drinks are set down by the waiter, identical beverages with ice clinking against glass. Yuuri momentarily feels relieved that he can try to pass the time quicker by occupying himself with the beverage—until he takes a sip.

"Uh...," Yuuri starts, looking over at Seung Gil who's raising an eyebrow slightly. "What kind of drink is this...?"

"It has alcohol, if that's what you mean. Do you drink?”

A small, nervous chuckle escapes from Yuuri's lips, only confusing the man in front of him. "I'm underage...so..."

"Ah."

 _That's it?_ Yuuri watches as Seung Gil takes a sip of his own drink, outwardly calm but wanting to scream on the inside. _One more try._ "I'm...not going to drink this. I’m sorry."

"Alright." Seung Gil sets his drink down, and dread bubbles in Yuuri's stomach as he realizes things aren't going to get better between them anytime soon. Seung Gil is too straightforward, too blunt, too distant. If Victor was here, things would be the exact opposite. Right now, Seung Gil is giving him neither what he wants or needs.

An all-too-familiar feeling wraps its hand around Yuuri's throat, making it harder for him to breathe, to think. Sitting in front of a stranger in an unknown environment, it reminds him of his and Victor's first meeting. How obviously he stood out. How he didn’t belong. But unlike that time, there's no reassurance, no sensation of a hand on the small of his back, no warmth—only the bitter tinge of alcohol and the cold of the room, of the drink, of Yuuri's hands, of his chest. Everything is so cold.

_I don't belong here._

He's slipped. He's stumbling back, falling, and he frantically tries to find something to hold onto before he crashes.

The glint of the second hand. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty.

"Is something wrong?" Seung Gil's voice rudely pulls Yuuri out of his focus from the watch on his wrist. Yuuri blinks at the man across from him, making sure he heard that right—that Seung Gil actually said something first.

"Oh...why do you ask?" Yuuri meekly replies. Yes. Something is wrong.

"I've been watching you. You're acting a bit weird," he points out, which makes Yuuri flinch at the sting in his gut from the comment. _I'm not weird_ , he wants to answer, to scream. _This is how I am._

_Victor wouldn't call me weird. Victor is patient with me. Victor listens to me. Victor smiles. Victor expresses his desire for me so clearly it's embarrassing. Victor knows what kind of person I am and accepts it._

_Victor...doesn't know I'm here._

Yuuri gazes at the watch on his wrist, his thoughts running a million miles per second. He knows he needs to do something, knows what he wants to do, but slowly coming to that realization makes the anxiety suffocate him, and he can't help thinking how selfish he is. _Victor wouldn't like it if I was trying to be someone I'm not. He wouldn't want this._ Like the flick of a switch, the truth is revealed. He knew it deep down, yet here he is. And now, his regret creeps up his throat. He can’t speak. His words carry no meaning. Not when his heart is empty.

_I don't want this._

The walls seem to close on him, creeping in from all sides. _Get out_ , his mind warns, but he remembers.

$400.

 _Get out!_ it says, louder and sterner, and Yuuri wonders how different things would be if he was with Victor instead. _Get out, get out, get out..._

Yuuri's breath is uneven, eyes glued to the second hand, realizing just how long he's been sitting there doing nothing. A waste of time. A waste of money.

_Get out! Get out! Get out!_

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine—

 _GetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutGETOUTGETOUTGET_ _—_

Zero.

Yuuri stands. Glances down at the glint from his wrist. Meets those deep blue eyes. Swallows. Decides.

"I need to use the bathroom."

It's a lie.

Seung Gil simply nods, and that simple gesture only confirms that what Yuuri is about to do is for the best. He stands up and pushes in his chair, and for a frightening moment he and Seung Gil make eye contact, those dark eyes boring into his own and making him question everything, why he’s here and why he’s hesitating and why he isn’t gone yet and why he did this to himself, and Yuuri knows he needs to leave before his insanity consumes him and makes everything worse. Without further explanation, he leaves the table, walking away much faster than he realizes. He makes his way to the bathroom door once he turns the corner, and glances back towards the room he was in. Silence. Seung Gil let go of him like nothing. Like he was nothing. And with that, he dashes for the door without looking back at the man who brought him out tonight.

Blood pounds in his ears, in time with the pace he goes down the curved staircase along the wall. Turning to the right once he reaches the bottom, he goes back into the red hallway that now screams slaughter, self-sabotage, betrayal. Things that Yuuri relates to a bit too well at the moment. He stares the double doors, the silver handles, the exit, freedom.

For a fluttering moment, he's fearful. He imagines Seung Gil coming down the stairs and witnessing Yuuri as he escapes, leaving him with dinner and a hefty bill. But as he glances back, he hears nothing. There may have been a moment in which the person at the host stand caught sight of Yuuri and looked at him in confusion, but he's already out the door, a gust of wind hitting him.

Free.

Yuuri inhales deeply, heart pounding against his chest.

Gone.

He looks around, noticing how the world continues to move despite how stagnant everything felt when he was inside the restaurant. But despite all that, he still feels the pressure in his chest. The twist in his gut. The pounding in his head.

_...I left him._

A new wave of dread washes over him. He's an idiot for thinking he would be free of his thoughts and guilt of his actions once he left.

He doesn't know what to do now. Everything feels dull as he simply begins walking down the street. Why? Why had this experience been so difficult for him?

_I'm not fit for this._

Yuuri's pace increases, crossing the street and seeing the red line train in the distance, a few blocks away. Why had Seung Gil been so distant with him? Why did he barely look at Yuuri? Why didn't he try to get to know Yuuri instead of just sitting there, staring at his menu?

_I'm boring. I'm nothing._

What was the point, then? Why did Seung Gil choose him?

_To replace someone else. To be a placeholder. To take up space._

Yuuri nearly runs through the turnstiles, finding it harder to breathe as he reaches the platform and immediately boards the train which arrives at the same time he does. He sits at the first seat he sees, rests his forearms on his thighs, and gives up, head hanging low.

_It's all my fault._

Yuuri sits there, blocking out his thoughts of people staring at him, of people looking over at him, thinking about him. He doesn't have the strength to think about it. He doesn’t have much strength at all.

 _"Clark and Division is next,"_ the train announces. Yuuri looks up to the flashing sign at the front of the train car, not even able to be angry at the fact that he’s going in the opposite direction of his apartment.

 _I can't even get on the right train_ , he mentally beats himself up even more. _I can't do anything right..._

Yuuri sits there. Alone. Ready to get out the train and hop on the other one as soon as possible. When he gets to his apartment, Phichit will be there. He can tell Phichit what happened. He can do something. He needs to do something.

He takes out his phone, slowly putting in his password as he continues to ponder. _I'll tell him I couldn't do it. Maybe we can do something together when I get home. Cook dinner and watch a show..._

Yuuri is greeted by something completely different. A message from Phichit.

[Sorry Yuuri, I'll be home late! My manager texted me asking if I could come in today, too many people called out last minute! See you in a few hours!]

His mind goes blank, staring at the text. There isn't even a point in going back to the apartment anymore. For what? To be alone? To hole himself up in his room? Yuuri feels the remainder of his energy, his motivation, drain out of him. He doesn't know what he should do next.

_What do I want...?_

Yuuri blinks a few times. The question he found himself asking is strangely familiar.

_Not what I need...what do I want...?_

His hands are shaking slightly as he opens up their conversation. Types in a message. Deletes it. Types it again. Takes a deep breath, before typing out something simpler, something that won't worry him.

[Victor?]

What he doesn't expect is how soon the response comes: less than a minute later, he watches the text pop up.

[Yes, Yuuri?]

He's listening. Waiting. But Yuuri hasn’t planned a response after this. His anxiety takes over his fingers in his moment of doubt, and sends something he says too often, something that would have been better kept to himself, but something he can’t take back anymore.

[I'm sorry]

Seconds pass, and Yuuri hears the question again. _What do I want?_

[Yuuri? What's wrong?]

_What do you want, Yuuri?_

[I know we agreed to take a day off today...but I was wondering if we can meet up now.]

Yuuri watches the text as it's sent to Victor. This time, the response doesn't come as quickly.

A minute passes.

_I'm selfish._

Thirty seconds.

_I'm wasting Victor's time. He probably has something to do._

Twenty seconds.

_I'm so selfish._

Fifteen seconds.

_I accepted Seung Gil's offer, but in the end, I ran away, not even telling him that I was leaving._

Ten seconds.

_I haven't even told Victor...I thought I would be able to help him, but in the end, I failed. He wanted me to open up to him, but I couldn't even tell him that I was going to see someone else today._

Finally, his phone vibrates again.

[I'm at work right now...but I'll see what I can do.]

It's not an unusual answer—It's just about what he expects. What he didn't expect was getting an answer at all. [Thank you...] he texts back, but he feels more guilty than anything. Not only did he interrupt Victor during work, but he might be making him leave work because of him. But at the same time...he doesn't want to take back what he said. The duality of his mind only causes his head to throb.

[Is there anything you'd like to do?] Victor asks, not waiting for a response from Yuuri yet and choosing to seek one instead.

Yuuri hesitates for a moment, then replies with the first thing that comes to mind. What his heart wants. What his instincts tell him.

[I just want to see you.]

Yuuri only realizes that he’s missed several stops as he looks up, the train announcing a stop even farther from the stop he was initially supposed to get off of. Before he can go even further, he stands and walks onto the platform with a few other people, making his way up to ground level. But once he’s crossing the street, he realizes he has nowhere to go. Now that Victor is supposedly going to see him, he can’t simply go back to his apartment. Without a destination in mind, Yuuri only continues to wander, taking out his phone and going onto Sweet Meet to access his and Victor’s conversation, which has gone momentarily silent.

Yuuri watches mindlessly as three dots come up, then disappear. Then come up. Vanish again. Then, finally, a message comes.

[Where are you right now?]

Taking a moment to look around him, Yuuri soon spots the streets he’s currently near. _Wabash...and Madison? This looks familiar…_ The flow of cars, the level of noise, and the buildings around him all give him an intense sense of deja vu, until he realizes it isn’t at all. It’s a memory.

To confirm his suspicions, Yuuri waits until he reaches Michigan before looking around again, and once he does all his fears are confirmed and strengthened. This is the same view he had of the park on Thursday, only several stories above ground. Yuuri glances to his right and sure enough sees a familiar building that makes him huff in amusement, but he's not happy. The irony makes his chest ache. Yuuri’s heart sinks seeing the bar they went to only a few days before.

[I'm a block away from Cindy's.]

[Alright. Why don't you go into a restaurant nearby? Text me the name and I'll go there.]

Yuuri looks around him. A place where people can sit and talk for a long time. _Not much of a restaurant...but more like a café, I guess._ Yuuri walks into the first thing he sees, and only bothers to recall the name of wherever he just walked into when he messages Victor again.

[I'm at Panera...]

Yuuri simply nods at the standard greetings at the door and walks toward the back of Panera, where there are booths and a different door to enter from. He sits down in one of the chairs and checks his phone to see if Victor responded yet.

There are three dots on the screen, but they quickly disappear, being replaced with a message. [I just left work. I'll be there in 15 minutes.]

Yuuri doesn’t have anything else to say. He doesn’t want to say anything else. The exchange with Victor only makes him more mentally exhausted, so much that in a matter of seconds he goes over to his notifications, seeing the settings for Sweet Meet. Once he sees that he can turn them off for a specified amount of time, he immediately decides to turn them off for an hour, and just like that, he’s isolated.

Seconds feel like minutes. Minutes feel like years. Fifteen minutes is an eternity. At one point, Yuuri puts his head down on the table, shutting his eyes and gripping his arms. Now that Victor is on his way, there are other things he has to worry about. His mind is playing a game of "they love me, they love me not", and he's the flower, slowly being plucked bare until he's nothing.

_I want to see him...I don't deserve to see him. He's trying to help...he feels obligated out of pity. I can trust him...I betrayed his trust. If I see him, I'll feel better...when I see him, I'll just feel worse._

The revolving doors spin, a gust of spring wind making Yuuri shudder slightly. It's colder than he remembers.

When Yuuri glances up, he sees Victor standing there, glancing first to his right, then to his left, catching sight of the student with crooked glasses and exhausted eyes staring straight at him.

"Yuuri..."

Yuuri wants to call out to him, to reach out to Victor. He's overwhelmed with his conflicting emotions, but his relief temporarily overpowers the opposing thoughts just by seeing Victor. He quickly stands up, about to greet him, but then he's hit by what he's done—what he hasn't told Victor—and the flicker of relief is extinguished in the blink of an eye. _What will he think when he finds out that I met with someone else? After our agreement earlier this week, that Victor would pay everything off? Won’t he think I'm selfish? Self-serving? Greedy?_

Yuuri sits back down, his stomach churning.

Victor, watching Yuuri the whole time, briskly walks over to him, concerned about whatever is making Yuuri act so uncertain. He calls out to Yuuri again, but he doesn’t seem to hear it. Taking a seat, Yuuri finally realizes that Victor is there, sitting in front of him, giving him time and attention he doesn’t deserve.

“...Hi,” Yuuri says, knowing he has to say something, being the one to call Victor out here.

“Is everything alright?” Victor immediately asks, not bothering to return the greeting, but that only puts Yuuri further on edge. He sounds like him. Seung Gil, who he left hanging with a $400 bill. He wants to laugh. Everything that went on over the past hour was anything but alright. But he doesn’t know what to say to Victor. Thankfully, he picks up on Yuuri’s awkward stance.

“Are you feeling hungry? We can order here, if you want.”

“Okay…,” Yuuri agrees half-heartedly. He doesn’t care about food. His appetite is mostly gone, which doesn’t happen that often. He just wants to curl up in a ball, close himself off, but he also needs some sort of company because he can’t handle isolation after what happened, he wants to reach out to Victor but after not telling him about his plans for tonight he isn’t sure if he should, and his entire mental state is a seesaw, furiously teetering side to side. Victor hasn’t seen him cry before, and of all situations to see him do that, Yuuri doesn’t want it to be because of an anxiety attack.

“Let’s get in line,” Victor suggests with a small smile. However, Yuuri seems unfocused, detached, and Victor suggests an alternative. “...Do you want me to order for you instead?”

“Ah...could you?” His words are halfway between a question and statement, but Victor accepts them anyway.

“Sure. What would you like?”

“Just...um…,” Yuuri murmurs, glancing over at the menu. He’s been too distracted to even think about what he wants to eat. “A soup, I guess...you can choose what kind.”

“Alright…,” Victor nods. “I’ll be right back.” This time Yuuri nods a bit, and Victor gets in line, glancing back at Yuuri a couple of times on the way there. This isn’t the usual nervous behavior Yuuri exhibits in front of Victor—namely the kind he encountered during their first meeting—but Victor just doesn’t know him well enough yet to know what, exactly, has changed. Or why.

He glances at Yuuri while in line and ordering, seeing that he’s taken out his phone. He also notes Yuuri’s foot, rapidly tapping against the ground, a mannerism he caught onto when they met two days ago. _An argument with Phichit…?_ he wonders.

Yuuri mindlessly scrolls through his Instagram feed, filled with pictures of his friends and of random dog accounts. He’s trying to take his mind off of his failed meeting with Seung Gil. He feels bad for leaving, but he knows he wouldn’t have been able to stand being there any longer. Besides, with the way Seung Gil was interacting with him, Yuuri leaving probably wasn’t a large loss to him. He doesn’t even want to think about messaging him later and apologizing. The mere thought of having to explain himself makes him want to laugh. What would he say? “Sorry, I left you with a $400 bill because I was too weak to be around you”?

Soon enough, his hands begin to shake while he scrolls through his phone. _No, please...anywhere but here...not in front of Victor…_ , he tries to tell himself, to his anxiety, to his staggering thoughts. But it’s not working. Walls have gone up in his mind, blocking everything out except for his negative and self-destructive thoughts, and the same wall is destroying him instead of protecting him.

While ordering, Victor keeps pondering over Yuuri’s behavior. They aren’t supposed to meet until Wednesday. Maybe Yuuri changed his mind. After all, he could have met someone else during the time who provides for him better than Victor. The thought makes the CEO more frustrated than he’d like to admit. Moreover, he’s been having fun with Yuuri the last few times they met, only to see him like this on a day they haven’t. Just leaving the table has him worried, so he sends Yuuri a quick text to try checking up on him without being too direct.

[Thank you for inviting me tonight. It was a nice surprise.]

Yuuri sees the message and looks up, seeing Victor stare at him while he’s in line. Just as quickly, Yuuri turns back to his phone and starts to type, finding it much easier than communicating with him directly.

[Sorry...I thought I was bothering you for asking to see you out of nowhere...even though we already made plans to see each other on specific days…]

[Don’t worry about it, Yuuri.]

Yuuri doesn’t answer for a bit, and as Victor gets their drinks he responds again. [Just because we came up with a schedule doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you on other days, even if we decided to take a break. Rather, we made a schedule to make sure we could meet no matter what. You remember, don’t you? We said we wanted to see each other as often as possible.]

Yuuri nods to himself slightly as he reads Victor’s message, finding his words of at least a bit of solace as he takes them in. [I understand.] He sends the plain text, not in the mood to talk much more about the subject at hand.

Victor surprises Yuuri as he comes back with not only their drinks and food, but a plethora of cookies, sweets, and other small snacks.

“V-victor…? Just soup is fine...I’m not really—”

“I felt like getting some more!” VIctor responds with a smile as he sits down. “Take whatever you’d like!”

Yuuri wishes that cheerful aura could rub off on him for even a second. “Thank you…” His head is slightly inclined as he takes his soup off of the tray and picks up the spoon. He was hoping that his appetite would emerge once the food arrived, but nothing’s changed. He puts the spoon in the soup, but makes no move to eat it. If anything, he’s dizzy, nauseous, in a cold sweat. “I’m sorry…,” he whispers, feeling his discomfort growing. After telling Victor that he wanted to see him, getting what he wants still isn’t enough to calm his mounting anxiety. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can feel his thoughts suffocating him, not able to fully take a breath, only able to recall the curved font on the menu at the restaurant where Seung Gil was—no, where he is. Where he still is. Where Yuuri left him.

Yuuri’s head begins to pound, and his nausea grows.

_Selfish._

Victor doesn’t answer at first. With the way Yuuri murmured his apology, he isn’t sure if it’s directed toward him in the first place. Yuuri’s lack of appetite concerns him as well, considering how well he usually eats when they meet up. For a few moments, they’re silent, Yuuri swirling the spoon around in the bread bowl while Victor quietly eats some of his own soup. He doesn’t want to aggravate Yuuri’s situation, so offering blind advice isn’t the best course of action at the moment.

“...Yuuri.” Victor waits until Yuuri looks up to meet his eyes, which takes a minute or two, before continuing. “If there’s something you need to get off your chest, I’m here.”

Yuuri stops swirling his spoon and begins to clutch it in his hand, the whirlwind of sickness in his stomach and head and body slowing down for just a moment, just enough to think. He remembers what Victor had said a while before: a sugar relationship being not just about money, but also about advising, mentorship, friendship, support. Victor wants to give him all of that.

He breathes out slowly, his stomach still doing flips as he tries to stabilize himself before speaking. Victor’s reassurance is constant and obvious, starkly different in contrast to the person Yuuri was with an hour ago.

“Thank you…,” he murmurs, and this time it isn’t so robotic, so controlled.

Victor nods a bit, blowing on his own soup before eating another spoonful. Letting Yuuri know that he’s there if Yuuri needs something not only puts Yuuri just a bit more at ease, but also reassures Victor as well. He smiles slightly as he sees Yuuri tentatively get a spoonful of soup, blowing lightly before putting it into his mouth. The silence between them is less heavy as they both begin eating, albeit Yuuri at a slower pace than Victor.

“I…,” Yuuri murmurs, immediately catching Victor’s attention. He clears his throat a bit, not knowing any way to sugar coat his actions. “Today...an hour ago...I was supposed to be meeting someone.”

“Hm…?” Victor tilts his head a bit, still eating. “About what?”

Yuuri bites his lip, knowing there’s no way to avoid it anymore. “They contacted me. Through Sweet Meet.”

Silence passes through, Yuuri not wanting to meet Victor’s eyes at the moment, Victor pondering over Yuuri’s words. Then, he answers.

“Oh. I see.”

He doesn’t say much more, which doesn’t help Yuuri in determining if he’s mad or not. Victor doesn’t want to interrupt Yuuri while he’s speaking. From their last meeting, he knows that Yuuri takes time to share his feelings, but when he does, it requires care and consideration. Yuuri is much stronger than he knows, but he can also be as fragile as glass in times like these. It’s a duality Victor hasn’t been exposed to, one that he doesn’t know how to handle, but he wants to be able to, even if he can’t just yet.

“I went to go meet him, but…,” Yuuri’s hand slows down, no longer swirling the spoon around in the soup, “it was completely different from when we first met. He was so...calculating. Straightforward. Especially with stuff like this, I need reassurance, at least a little bit...I don’t want to become someone’s waste of time or money...and by meeting him, it just confirmed it...my anxiety keeps on pulling my leg, holding me back, making everything harder.” Yuuri tries to put all his thoughts together, but it all comes spilling out in a way that doesn’t make much sense, between uneven breaths and glassy eyes. “It was...really hard...he talked briskly, didn’t repeat himself, didn’t offer any reassurance...I knew that things weren’t going to work out between us...but I feel so bad. I left him hanging and ran away...and it hurts...meeting someone else, even though I already have you, even though you already agreed to help me with everything, just because I wanted to try and help but ended up making everything worse...I’m so greedy, and I shouldn’t be, because honestly, I’m just...nothing.”

The last word is spat out, bitter on Yuuri’s tongue, and Yuuri’s sure this is the end for them. Putting all of this out, telling Victor how insecure he feels,even after being guaranteed financial support—now Victor knows just how weak he is, how breakable, how unstable, how inadequate, how boring, how—

A hand on top of his makes him jolt, and he realizes Victor’s rubbing circles on Yuuri’s hand, just like the first time they met. Just like when Victor expressed his desire for Yuuri.

“Yuuri…,” Victor starts, sensing the defensive wall Yuuri has put up but also sensing a crack in it. “Some sugar babies are much more assertive than others. Whoever you met with, I bet he was expecting someone like that. He was ready to provide for whatever you were going to ask for, but that’s not how you are. There’s nothing wrong with the way you acted. You two were simply incompatible.”

“But…”

Victor’s hand momentarily stops moving, covering Yuuri’s completely. “I like the way you are, Yuuri. I wouldn’t be enjoying our time together if you went out of your way to act like someone you’re not.”

“...I’m greedy…” It’s what Yuuri’s kept telling himself all this time. How can it not be true?

“No, not really,” Victor huffs softly in amusement, and now his index finger is slowly traveling down the ridges of Yuuri’s clenched knuckles, back and forth and again and again. “You said on your profile that you were alright with meeting several people at once. I was still interested in you regardless, and I constantly reminded myself that something like this might happen.”

“But I—”

Victor puts a finger to his lips. “Even if you were a ‘nobody’, which you’re most certainly not, it doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy the time we spend together, Yuuri. If you need reassurance on what I just said, no matter when, I’m always happy to give it to you, Yuuri. I mean it.”

Victor gives Yuuri a moment to speak, to protest, to do whatever he wants to do. But nothing comes. Yuuri can’t possibly find the right response to Victor, who is still looking at him with those kind eyes. Victor, who didn’t judge him for meeting someone else. Victor, who was willing to meet him on such short notice. Victor, who’s vowing to give Yuuri the push he needs, whenever he needs it.

Victor.

In a matter of seconds, the tears that were threatening to fall gather, feeling heavy on Yuuri’s lashes, but before Yuuri can wipe them as they fall, Victor reaches over and does it for him. The soft pad of his thumb slowly, smoothly wipes over each cheekbone, and the CEO smiles softly as he feels Yuuri sniffle, pursing his lips and grabbing a napkin. However, he pays no heed and continues to wipe the student’s tears as they continue to fall, proof of his courage, of his trial and error, and what he’s learned.

“S-sorry…,” Yuuri manages to mumble.

“It’s alright,” Victor calmly responds. He’s deep in thought before he finally pulls away, letting Yuuri finish cleaning up with the napkin, blowing his nose. Once their gazes meet again, Yuuri stiffens slightly as he notices that Victor’s expression is suddenly serious, almost threatening. “That guy…”

“Y-yes?”

“...He didn’t force you into anything, did he?”

Yuuri blinks a few times in surprise, the topic and what Victor really means being processed only after a few seconds, after which Yuuri’s ears burn slightly at the insinuation.

“Did he? Yuuri.”

“No...he didn’t. We were just at a restaurant and nothing really happened,” Yuuri responds, making sure he isn’t making Victor worry more than he already has.

Victor nods a bit, pulling his hand away after he sees that Yuuri’s calmed down. “I’m glad to hear that. Listen, Yuuri. It’s probably already obvious to you, but if anyone tries to pressure you, tell someone right away. I know you’re good friends with Phichit, but you can also contact me.”

“I know, Victor…,” Yuuri responds, picking up his spoon again. He doesn’t say anything, but seeing Victor doting over him like this is only slightly annoying and mostly amusing.

“I know that you do...I just don’t want your feelings to interfere with your safety. I really do care about you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri raises an eyebrow slightly as he finishes a spoonful of soup. “We haven’t even been seeing each other for a month yet…”

“Does it really matter?”

That single statement silences Yuuri. It’s so straightforward that he doesn’t know how to respond. However, he doesn’t need to—Victor’s already moving on.

“Make sure you eat the rest of your soup before it gets cold,” he reminds Yuuri, sifting through all the sweets he bought. “Hm...I’ll take the chocolate muffin and pound cake! Which ones do you want, Yuuri?”

He still can’t respond yet. How Victor can go from one extreme to another is astounding. Yet, oddly enough, it’s comforting as well. He doesn’t dwell on Yuuri’s flaws, but he does validate his feelings. He just wants to provide for Yuuri, whether it’s physically or emotionally, and it soothes Yuuri’s second thoughts about signing up for Sweet Meet. Victor still feels like a being way above him, on a whole other level, but slowly, those swings bring him down and closer to Yuuri.

“It’s gotten pretty late,” Victor notes, and watches as Yuuri checks the time on his phone. Sure enough, it’s already past ten, leaving Yuuri to wonder where the time went. However, there are more pressing issues at hand.  
  
“Well…,” Yuuri rests his elbow on the table, fingers lightly rubbing the back of his neck. “I know we weren’t supposed to meet today, so…”  
  
Victor simply tilts his head in apprehension. “So?”

“We should probably get going,” Yuuri admits. He assumes Victor’s had a busy day—the fact that he went in to work on a Saturday tells him enough already—and interrupting him any more won’t help. However, one look at Victor’s expression is enough to silence Yuuri, making him wonder why Victor looks so...frustrated?  
  
“I still have some time,” he easily responds. “Let’s walk for a bit. We’ve been sitting for a while.”  
  
“Ah...okay,” Yuuri nods slightly, still intrigued. Was it something he said? Regardless, Victor cleans up the table himself despite Yuuri’s insistence to help. Yuuri finds himself holding most of the pastries that Victor bought on impulse and has a feeling that it was done on purpose, especially when Victor doesn’t take them back as he approaches the exit where Yuuri is waiting.

The glistening Chicago skyline greets them as they exit Panera, people milling about as Yuuri hears drums playing in the distance and hears a train on the elevated tracks down the block, but those sounds begin to diminish as Victor leads him across the street. He expects that familiar pressure, the palm on the small of his back, but instead it's higher, between his shoulder blades, and for a reason he can't explain he feels different. Supported. Accepted. Valid. Reassured.

Or is it more than the hand—the owner of the hand—making Yuuri feel this way?

Cars begin intersecting once they’ve walked to the opposite side of Michigan Avenue, where the metallic curved dome and criss-crossing metal beams of the Pritzker Pavilion are illuminated by countless skyscrapers’ shining lights.  
  
“Victor, where…?”

“Nowhere in particular. I just thought it’d be nice to walk a bit.”  
  
Yuuri is silent at that. And just as Victor says, they walk around without a destination in mind, Victor’s hand on his upper back the whole time. As they walk under a streetlight, the glint of gold catches both of their eyes, and Yuuri’s heart stops for a moment. He never told Victor about the watch. As he fears, Victor simply smiles.  
  
“You’re wearing it today?”  
  
“Ah, yeah...I thought it would make a good impression...and give me some confidence, but that obviously didn’t go too well…”

Victor simply hums softly, then falls into silence, which is frankly alarming to Yuuri. Victor is much more social than he is, and seeing him suddenly being more thoughtful makes him wonder what exactly has been going through his mind ever since he suggested they go on a walk. He can’t pinpoint it exactly, but it’s as if there’s something Victor wants to say that he’s holding back from Yuuri, and he’s curious to know what it is.  
  
“I was, um…,” Yuuri begins, trying to fill the silence between them, “...I found myself looking at it a lot during the time I was at the restaurant...I couldn’t help but compare it with the times I’ve met with you.”

“Did that help?” Victor asks, walking up a flight of concrete steps with Yuuri. Yuuri has to think for a moment, reflect on the kinds of things he was feeling back with Seung Gil, the emotions that overwhelmed him as he watched the time tick away.

“To be honest...it might have done the opposite,” Yuuri smiles awkwardly. His eyes are glued to the gray stairs and his legs, left, right, left, right... “Every time I looked at it, I remembered you. I felt like...I was betraying the trust of everyone around me. Phichit, for telling him that I was capable of meeting a second sugar daddy...the guy I met, for thinking about someone else the entire time...and you. For not even telling you that I was going to meet someone else. For going out on our day off.”

“Yuuri…,” Victor begins, but falls silent once Yuuri’s phone vibrates in his pocket, the familiar ring of a notification cutting through their conversation. Yuuri’s heard it countless times when he texts Victor. It’s from Sweet Meet.

Not yet knowing if that’s a good or bad sign, Yuuri stops walking, and Victor follows the motion. Pulling out his phone, he sees those same initials. S.L. It’s not like he was expecting anyone else anyway, but seeing his message is unnerving regardless.

[Where are you?]

Victor can’t see his screen from where he’s standing, but he can very well guess what kind of message he got from Yuuri’s expression. “Is it…?”  
  
Yuuri nods a bit, sighing softly as he remembers that he turned off his notifications for Sweet Meet about an hour ago—Seung Gil’s message is from over half an hour ago. After the fact, after his actions and the experience with Seung Gil, he has to admit his actions were rash. At the same time, however, he knows that what he did was for the best. Their meeting wasn’t bound to go well, especially with the way his and Seung Gil’s personalities were barely compatible. The fact that he owns a dog barely made a difference at all.

“Why don’t you tell him where you are?”  
  
Yuuri instantly stares at Victor with the same are-you-kidding-me look that he usually gives Phichit, causing Victor to chuckle a bit. Sure, he knows what Victor’s trying to get at, he knows that it’s the right thing to do, but personally, he’d rather text Seung Gil in a few days, after he’s completely cooled down. _But,_ he wonders, _is that fair to Seung Gil?_

“It’s easier said than done…,” Yuuri mutters, walking over to the nearest bench, a streetlight flickering next to it. He sits down with an exhausted exhale, Victor’s hand no longer on his back, staring at the message. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he knows he acted unfairly. “It’s not like he’s a bad guy...but he was so direct, and he never really said anything unless he had to. I guess he was expecting someone more demanding, but I was the complete opposite. Still...he definitely knows I left him by now…” Yuuri’s mind feels as unorganized as his apartment after weeks of not properly cleaning it. He doesn’t know what point he wants to make with so many things running through his head.

Victor tilts his head slightly. “Well, what do you want to do, Yuuri? You can’t have him waiting forever.”

The truth from Victor only solidifies it, and Yuuri taps on the empty text box, hesitating for a moment to answer. “...I don’t think we’re compatible at all…”

“And so?”

“...I’ll message him.”

Victor nods a bit, then sits next to Yuuri, watching him quickly compose a message, then erase it all and tap his foot against the pavement for a few moments before starting again, a bit slower this time. He can tell that Yuuri is doing his best to explain himself while conveying it in a way that shows that he feels bad for what he did. Victor can’t help but smile slightly. Even with people Yuuri doesn’t know that well, he doesn’t want to be misunderstood or leave anything unresolved. In a way, he’s a bit of a gambler, taking chances without paying too much attention to the consequences, but it’s a characteristic that only intrigues Victor all the more.

“How does this sound?” Yuuri murmurs, holding his phone towards Victor.

“You want me to read it?”

Yuuri nods, adjusting his glasses slightly. “If it’s not too much trouble…”

After a moment of thought, Victor takes the phone from Yuuri’s hand, slowly reading over the message that turned into quite a long one.

[I lied about using the bathroom. After I got up, I left the restaurant…I couldn’t handle the atmosphere between us anymore. I don’t mean to say that you were bad company. I’m new to Sweet Meet, and especially to being a sugar baby, so I think the people you usually meet up with are a lot more confident than I am...the person I’m primarily seeing right now is really talkative and energetic, and I’m used to being given a lot of attention when I’m with him. I think you already know, but if we’d kept on going like that it wouldn’t have been enjoyable for either of us. The air between us was really awkward, and I wish that I could have been able to change that, but it just wasn’t going to happen when it like I was talking to someone who didn’t seem eager to spend time with me. I’m not saying that it was actually one-sided. That’s just how it felt to me. But I know that running away wasn’t the right thing to do, and I can’t go back in time to fix that. I’m sorry.]

Victor glances at Yuuri, who’s staring at the bench across from them, lips pursed, eyes filled with determination but covered with a frail trace of worry. In that moment, he understands that Yuuri doesn’t necessarily intend to rewrite the message even if Victor doesn’t like it. This is the way he’s decided to open up.

“I think it sounds good.”

Yuuri looks at Victor for a few seconds, then nods slightly and hits send, watching the message appear in his conversation with Seung Gil. There isn’t a way to tell if Seung Gil has read the message yet, so he simply stares at their conversation, hoping that Seung Gil won’t answer, will be his silent and stoic self as he was at the restaurant.

Then, three dots pop up, and within seconds the reply comes.

[That’s fine. I contacted someone else and they came in at the last minute.]

Yuuri doesn’t mind sleeping right where he is, on the stiff park bench, for the night.

“Well…,” Victor starts, then huffs in amusement at Yuuri’s small smile of disbelief, “he’s certainly an expert in open relationships.”

“Yeah...apparently he met someone this morning, too…,” Yuuri murmurs, locking his phone once he decides that his conversation with Seung Gil doesn’t need to be further elaborated on. As blunt as the message was, he gets the feeling that Seung Gil is at least understanding of the fact that he and Yuuri aren’t a good match.

Once the ordeal is over, both of them sit in silence, the only noise coming from the traffic back on Michigan, where they walked from. There aren’t any performances at the pavilion tonight, and with it already dark out less people are visiting spots that are usually condensed with tourists. Yuuri’s shoulders slump slightly as he sighs softly, leaning back against the bench. After having resolved the conflict with Seung Gil, he feels much more relaxed. Victor’s eyes, however, have been glued to Yuuri ever since he sent the message to Seung Gil, and it’s difficult to not notice someone staring at you so intently, which Yuuri is painfully aware of. The silence between them is becoming deafening, not because neither of them are talking, but rather due to the fact that Victor seems increasingly bothered by something, worry creasing the middle of his brow. Yuuri doesn’t know what Victor is so troubled about, but he decides he might as well try to find out.

“Um...Vic—”

“Yuuri, what should I do?”

The direct, desperate statement makes Yuuri stiffen slightly. “Huh..?”

“Is there something I can get you?” In the blink of an eye, Victor turns his entire body to face Yuuri and leans in surprisingly close, his words lingering on Yuuri’s breath, whose mouth is slightly agape in astonishment. Their gazes meet, and the brewing storm in Victor’s eyes is fully apparent to Yuuri now, having underestimated the conflict in them until now. Victor is being so straightforward that Yuuri doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“U-uh, Victor, what’s going—”

“Something that would make you feel better? Anything you want me to do?”

“Wait, are you oka—”

“Is there somewhere you want to go? Any way that I can help? What should I do to help you?”

Victor just won’t listen. Yuuri finds himself gradually leaning back as Victor continues to ask him questions to no end, his words snowballing into an avalanche, and all the attention is suffocating, stealing Yuuri’s breath until he can’t take it anymore.

“I just need to know what you’d want me to do in a situation like this since I never took into account that you may be meeting other people but of course not all people are suitable matches so in case something like this happens again I just need to know if—”

“Victor!”

Victor doesn’t have a chance to interrupt Yuuri this time. Not with Yuuri’s hands clamped over his mouth, muffling whatever Victor was planning to say. As their gazes meet, Yuuri wonders if he has Medusa’s eyes or Midas’ touch. Not a muscle in Victor’s body moves. He doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t blink. The only thing that exists are Yuuri’s eyes boring into him, telling him with a strangely understanding conviction, _I know._

Yuuri keeps his hands on Victor’s mouth as he sits up, causing Victor to lean back until they’re both sitting up like they’re supposed to. He doesn’t pay attention to Victor’s smooth cheeks, the strand of gray hair brushing against his fingers, or the firm curve of his lips against the palm of his hand. Right now, the only thing that matters is the storm in Victor’s eyes, the doubt that Yuuri’s inflicted on him. Little does Victor know that he’s already done more than enough. But Yuuri wants him to know. So he remembers everything Victor asked, all those words he was holding back, and answers him honestly.

“It’s okay, Victor. I mean, if anything, having you try so hard to make me feel better is a little unnerving. I just...I don’t want you to treat me any differently. I want you to just be there. Be yourself, just like you have been all this time. I think that would help the most.”

Sirens echo in the distance, Victor and Yuuri both silent as Victor takes in Yuuri’s words. Red and white lights flash, and an ambulance races by before the sound slowly diminishes, dissolving into one of the many sounds of the city. Then, Yuuri pulls his hands away. He watches for any sign that Victor may begin rambling again, but the silence continues, and something in his eyes change.

“Then...can I say something?” Victor murmurs, much calmer than before, possibly the calmest Yuuri’s ever seen him.

“Sure…,” he murmurs just as calmly in response, wondering what Victor has to say. “What is it?”

“Yuuri, didn't you say you were going to open up?"

“H-huh?” Yuuri smiles a bit, shoulders stiffening slightly. _Ah...is he mad after all?_

It happens in the blink of an eye. Victor puts a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and uses his free hand to hold up his index finger—at once a gesture that immediately suggests Victor knows best and Yuuri only needs to listen—as he continues without even regarding Yuuri’s surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going out today to meet someone else? I wouldn’t have been mad if you did since your profile says your preference for relationships is open. Didn’t I tell you before that my dominant nature is reserved for the bedroom? You scared me when you messaged me, and seeing your face when I walked into Panera made me brace for the worst possible scenario. If you’d told me beforehand I could have even given you some tips, you know! Meeting someone else while seeing other people can be difficult in itself, and considering you’re so new to sugar relationships I probably should have confronted you about it before, but it’s your responsibility as well, Yuuri. If something like this happens again, don’t hesitate to tell me. Do I seem like someone who would get mad at you for something like this?”

Yuuri realizes he never really got rid of the storm in Victor’s eyes—he simply brought it out. The awkward behavior Victor exhibited wasn’t due to his frustration itself, but rather because of his inner conflict of whether or not to be stricter and more critical with Yuuri. Yuuri telling him to be himself, however, was the only permission he needed to not hold back.

“W-well, I…,” Yuuri begins, then laughs a bit when he sees Victor’s expression. He looks ready to refute whatever Yuuri has to say, and Yuuri thinks his eyes may be lying to him, but he can’t ignore the way Victor’s bottom lip is pushed forward just a bit more than the top. “When you say all that, I can’t really deny it…”

Victor doesn’t say anything in response, but the way he leans back against the bench and crosses his ankles tells Yuuri that he’s satisfied with the answer he’s received. Glancing between him and their surroundings, Yuuri ponders. _What else can I do to let him know how I feel…?_

His phone suddenly vibrates in his pocket, and in the blink of an eye a mental lightbulb flickers on in Yuuri’s head. He sits up straight instead of leaning back on the bench like Victor, taking out his phone and quickly putting in the password while ignoring a text from Phichit for now, taking a mental note to answer him after he’s done with the task at hand. The abrupt determined aura surrounding Yuuri catches the CEO’s attention at once, who looks at his phone with a questioning glance. “What is it, Yuuri?”

But he encounters silence as his response. Silence, and the red tips of Yuuri’s ears as he opens Sweet Meet and goes onto his profile.

The straightforward information looks him square in the face, and Yuuri knows what he has to do. He makes sure the screen is in sight of Victor, easily able to tell what Yuuri is doing as he chooses to edit his profile, then begins scrolling down. Past his age. Past his likes. Past his dislikes. Past his profile picture. Stopping when he sees what he wants to change. At the tap of his finger, a small screen comes up.

**[Your relationship preference is currently set to “open”. Would you like to change this?]**

**[Yes] [No]**

_Yes_ , Yuuri mentally answers, not daring to look at Victor yet as he chooses the affirmative.

**[Your relationship preference is:]**

**[Exclusive] [Open]**

_Exclusive._

**[Your preference has been saved!]**

Yuuri presses the home button. His index finger reaches to the side, pressing the lock button. The screen goes dark, and the streetlight next to them flickers.

The silence is unnerving. He still hasn’t turned to look at Victor, at whatever face he may be making, at what he thinks of Yuuri’s actions. He doubts Victor misunderstands, but he begins to speak to fill the silence, hoping that elaborating on his actions won’t backfire on him. “I didn’t really care about it before...and I thought that if I met someone else, my burden wouldn’t be so hard on you...but in the end, I feel more comfortable like this. I know that probably sounds selfish, but you’ve always said that you want me to be comfortable. I think staying with you would be the best for me…”

Yuuri’s voice begins to fade at the end, not because he’s rambling, but because of the hand on his back. It’s between his shoulder blades again, just two or three fingers laying there, before they slowly slide down and stop at the small of Yuuri’s back. In any other context, Yuuri would interpret the gesture as something sensual, alluding to more intimate acts, but right now...it’s reassuring. Understanding. It makes the remaining tension in Yuuri’s back drain out of him, and a soft exhale slips from his lips. All it takes is Yuuri turning around to face Victor and seeing the small, relaxed smile resting on his face to ascertain the facts, to solidify and engrave them in his mind, to know that Victor _knows_.

There’s no need to say anything else.

His hand travels upwards again, resting on Yuuri’s shoulder as he stands and smiles down at the college student. “You’ve had a long night, haven’t you?”

“To say the least,” Yuuri admits, rubbing the back of his neck, then freezes as Victor’s hand leaves his shoulder only to go into the pocket of Victor’s pants and pull out a key, the bow’s shine glinting off of the streetlight. Yuuri’s eyes continue to betray him—there’s no way Victor’s key is gold. Yet, as he thinks that, he immediately counters it. _If it’s Victor, there’s always a way._

“I’ll give you a ride back,” Victor calls Yuuri’s attention back to him. Only after a few seconds does Yuuri process his proposition.

“H-huh?” is all he can answer with at the moment.

An amused huff comes from Victor as his fingers brush against Yuuri’s wrist. “Let’s go. My car isn’t far from here.”

Yuuri nods after a few more moments of silence, in awe at the fact that Victor just offered to drive him home. "If...if you're offering," he says, to which Victor smiles, seeing that Yuuri's trying. Trying to accept all the things Victor wants to do for him, slowly but surely.

"Okay. I'll be right back. Just stay here, I'll bring the car around, okay?" Yuuri watches as Victor walks away, his keys in his hand.

Yuuri's eyes are trained on Victor as he crosses the street, heading north before taking a right and walking out of sight. Glancing around him, he decides to sit down at another bench while he waits, knowing it'll take some time for Victor to get his car and come over, although he has no doubt that Victor doesn't have a worry in the world about parking fees.

 _Oh, Phichit...._ He takes out his phone again, remembering that he ignored his friend's texts in the rush of the moment. Knowing how late it's gotten, Phichit's probably worried about him.

[Wow Yuuri, getting some tonight, too? You're insatiable :P]

Or not.

[Haha, you wish.] Yuuri finds himself smiling at his phone.

An immediate response.

[What!!! What's going on now?!]

Yuuri starts to type a normal response, but then decides to humor Phichit a bit. He deletes what he was typing, then adds a few words that will definitely surprise Phichit. He didn't know that the American slang Phichit taught him would come in handy, but now seems like the perfect time to use it.

[I dipped on my date. I'll tell you about it when I get back.]

Another immediate response. [You better!!]

[Wanna know something even more scandalous?]

[Omgomgomgomg YUURI]

Yuuri can't help but laugh a bit before replying. [Victor's driving me home in his car.]

[YUURI WHAT EVEN]

The strangers walking by briefly wonder what's making the boy sitting on the bench smile so sheepishly to himself. But that's alright. Yuuri doesn't care, when he's happy. Teasing Phichit, making light of what happened in spite of how much it mentally rattled Yuuri—it's a sign that he's accepted what happened, and is ready to move on.

When he looks up, though, his mouth goes dry and his thoughts come to a smooth halt. Victor's car isn't as flashy as he was expecting. Rather, it's a hidden gem that isn't easily noticeable, but once you look you can't dare to look away.

Contrary to a shiny hood and exterior that reflects the city’s glamour, Victor’s car is a matte obsidian, blending in with the night. The dull shine only highlights the reflection of the skyline on the windshield and tinted side windows. Once Yuuri catches sight of it, light traveling from one side of the car to the other and passing through the windows, he can’t tear his gaze away for even a second. The outline of the headlights are a luminous white, not too blinding or low, and Yuuri makes out the outline of silver hair and fair skin against the frame of the car door.

Victor opens his door and steps out, winking at Yuuri. Victor is his usual self, despite the fact that Yuuri’s jaw has almost dropped to the floor. "Well, come on in," he says, as he walks to the other side, holding the door open for Yuuri. Yuuri looks down at his phone and quickly texts Phichit back.

[... ttyl]

Just that simple text message makes his phone start buzzing nonstop, Phichit dying to know what's happening, but Yuuri just puts his phone in his pocket, ignoring the onslaught of incoming messages. He walks around to the front of the car, barely making eye contact with Victor. Once he sits in, Victor closes the door, and walks back to the other side, getting into his seat.

The distinct odor of fresh leather overwhelms Yuuri's nose, and as Victor starts up the car he quietly puts his seatbelt on, then stares at the various dials, buttons and switches at the front of the car. Soft white lights outline each feature, and a monitor displays the current station the radio is on, regardless of the fact that the volume is all the way down.

"Want to put something on?" Victor suggests as he also slips his seat belt on.

"Huh...?"

"Music. Not clothes." A low, relaxed chuckle comes from Victor as he notes the flush of Yuuri's cheeks. "Hm...I guess this'll do."

Victor reaches, inputting a station manually, then slowly turns a knob to the right, Yuuri watching him all the while, in a trance. Not only is he with Victor, but he's in Victor's car, with music that he's chosen. He's surrounded by Victor's existence, and it's undoubtedly more intimate than being in the car Victor's chauffeur usually has.

Yuuri's ears meet the firm hum of a cello and the soft chords of a piano, each instrument playing it's own tune to come together in harmonious dissonance.

"Have you ever danced to jazz?" Victor murmurs.

"A few times, but not as much as other genres...I might have danced more bhangra, honestly," Yuuri smiles softly, to which Victor's eyes widen.

"Bhangra? Really?"

Yuuri nods and continues, smiling a bit at Victor’s surprise. "There's another dance group at school that's dedicated to learning dances from all over the world, of many different genres and styles," Yuuri explains, to which Victor chuckles. "Hm?" Yuuri is confused by Victor's reaction.

"You really don't see your potential, Yuuri."

"Uh…," Yuuri murmurs with a small smile, discovering that as much as he secretly likes the feeling of being in Victor's car, there's no escape for him. Especially when these kinds of comments come. "I mean, I'm pretty sure I see it..."

"Then, let me rephrase that. You don't see your full potential."

Yuuri fiddles with the strap of his seatbelt. Sure, Victor can say that, but what does he really know about Yuuri? "I know what I'm aiming for...I think that's all that matters."

"If you say so, then I'll trust what you say," Victor readily accepts, something Yuuri isn't expecting at all. It doesn't help when he looks at Victor to see him smiling with pure confidence and trust. "I can't wait to see you bloom."

Words won't come. Yuuri knows that's what he wants. He wants to bloom. Victor believes he will. Yuuri's had water and sunlight, a place to grow, and Victor is the roots, supporting him in the most basic ways just to see him grow.

"Do you mind putting in your address?" Victor stops at a red light while heading north on Michigan Avenue, holding his phone out to Yuuri.

"Ah...sure," Yuuri nods a bit, taking the phone and noticing now sleek and light it is. After putting in his address, Victor motions for him to settle the phone in the built-in stand, directions popping up. Realizing Victor's going to see the complex he lives in, he finds himself a bit disheartened. _Victor probably lives in a mansion with his dog...or in the penthouse of a skyscraper in the Loop..._

"Victor...," Yuuri murmurs absentmindedly while he looks out the window, wondering which building could be Victor's house.

"Yes, Yuuri?"

Victor's attentive voice pulls Yuuri out of his thoughts. "O-oh... sorry, I was just thinking about where you live," Yuuri confesses. Victor chuckles as they pull up to a stop.

"Does it intrigue you that much?" Victor chuckles a bit, turning off of Michigan and heading towards lake shore drive.

"I mean...you're going to see where I live, so..."

"Hm...what if I told you," Victor begins as he comes to another stop, then leans towards Yuuri's side, pointing to the top of the tallest skyscraper in sight, it's lights glinting in the sky, "that I live at the top of that building?"

"...I'd believe you," Yuuri honestly admits. The warm air that fans across his neck and the low rumble of Victor's chest that's mere inches away from Yuuri is impossible to ignore. The car feels much warmer than before.

"I don't. Well, not the top of that building, at least."

Is it possible to be attracted to the vague idea of someone's house?

Yuuri doesn't have time to comment. Once Victor reaches the familiar curve of Lake Shore Drive, traffic uncharacteristically insignificant since it’s much later in the night, the acceleration of the car presses him to his seat, making him smile a bit from the brief rush of adrenaline. Once Yuuri glances over at Victor, he knows he’s not alone, seeing the amused curl of Victor’s lips as well.

In mere minutes Victor exits, heading into a much quieter neighborhood that Yuuri gradually recognizes as his own, and knows it's only a matter of minutes before they arrive.

A pang in Yuuri’s chest makes him yearn for a bit more time. He doesn't want to leave Victor just yet. It's only his fourth time seeing him and yet, after tonight, he's feels a strong sense of security with Victor, not something he wants to let go of just yet. They're both quiet, the only sounds coming from Victor's phone, giving out directions on where Victor should go.

A few more more blocks, and Yuuri softly speaks. "Here, on the right."

Yuuri fiddles with his watch as he sees his apartment complex in the distance. _Just a little longer..._

He doesn't feel nervous about parting ways, though, and he doesn't get why until he realizes why this is drastically different from the past times he met with Victor. He already knows there's going to be a next time. Wednesday. His previous feeling of longing is replaced by anticipation in the blink of an eye. _Next time...and after that, Saturday...there's no question about it anymore._

"Here?" Victor pulls him out of his thoughts, slightly confused at the barely noticeable smile on the student's face.

Yuuri looks out the window, and sees that his apartment complex is right outside his car door. "Yeah. Thank you for the ride, Victor," Yuuri smiles softly at him, hoping that the darkness of the dusk will hide his blush.

"It's no problem, Yuuri."

"And Victor...?" Yuuri starts again, but Yuuri wonders why he said it as a question. He already knows Victor is listening.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, really. For tonight. I feel a lot better."

It's Victor's turn to smile. "I'm glad to hear that. It makes me happy to know you chose to reach out to me," he continues, only making the warmth in Yuuri's chest spread.

"I'll see you Wednesday?" Yuuri asks with a sheepish smile.

Victor huffs in amusement, then proceeds to make Yuuri’s heart stop. He leans in, a hand reaching out and tracing along Yuuri’s jaw, the younger man stiffening as his cheeks flush. The warmth in his chest has burst into a raging wildfire. He was foolish to forget the other side of Victor, the side that can instantly melt his insides and turn his legs to jelly at the utterance of his name wrapped in a sweet velvet tone. “Of course, Yuuri."

Yuuri's eyes widen at how close Victor is to him, and in the blink of an eye he’s swinging the door open, stumbling right out the car, slamming the door shut right after him. He runs to the gate, but instead of being prepared to open it, he runs into it, ears burning as he’s sure Victor can see his every move. Yuuri backtracks and opens the gate, then runs to the door, keys in hand. Not wasting another second, he immediately enters the complex, slamming the door behind him. He presses his back against the door, his legs still weak from Victor's sudden proximity. His breath is erratic, his heart is pounding, his cheeks feel so hot. He catches his breath after a few seconds, and gulps. The nerves that caused his head to spin begin to fade away, slowly being replaced with tingling anticipation.

He can't wait for Wednesday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For writing updates and sneak peeks, as well as fun behind the scenes kinda things, follow us on Twitter!:  
> Rui: @_ryoseirui_  
> Alexia: @NeedMatcha


	8. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a friendly reminder that if you’re in Tokyo, let’s hang out! And just a small announcement, but…keep on the lookout for something new in the works... -Rui
> 
> Thank you for your patience! It’s taken some time to get adjusted to the time difference between us and our respective schedules, but we’re excited to get back on track with everything we have planned! We received many messages and comments from people who were patient and understanding of our situation, which makes both of us so grateful for our audience <3

He should’ve known.

There were plenty of warning signs, but he chose to ignore them. The familiar address. The sense of déjà vu as the chauffeur drove him to meet Victor. Victor's insistence that he keep their meeting location a surprise _—_ Victor sent the name of the restaurant to him only after Yuuri was in the car, unable to escape and knowing deep inside that he wouldn’t run away even if he could.

Sure, the anticipation from Saturday night snowballed into an avalanche over the next few days _—_ Yuuri won't deny he's daydreamed of the possibilities for Wednesday during his less interesting classes—but seeing that familiar two-story building with covered windows and gray bricks, the one he ran away from that same whirlwind of a Saturday evening, makes him consider the possibility of being stuck in a time loop.

He definitely can't tell Victor about it. How would he? When would he? _‘Oh, I've been here once before,’_ he imagines himself saying as their waiter sets down a couple of drinks. _‘You know, with that guy I didn't tell you I was going to meet?’_

Not the best way to start a conversation.

So there he is, sitting with Victor at a round table, a view of the kitchen visible through a glass wall separating the eating and cooking areas. He's lucky enough that it isn't the same area where he and Seung Gil were sitting, which would have made everything even more awkward for Yuuri. As it is, his eyes are glued to the menu, which doesn't serve much of a purpose besides being a guide, since their dinner was already decided the moment Victor made a reservation. A few minutes of awkward conversation ago, he found out Victor made the reservation for Alinea shortly following their parting on the morning after Yuuri’s first time, which made Yuuri even more reluctant to deny his invitation.

At least his outfit is slightly different. Deciding to forego the watch and baby blue tie, he kept everything the same but borrowed a different shirt from Phichit. Instead of black on white, Yuuri’s new dress shirt is a silky black beneath the smooth ebony of his jacket. He's not used to layering so many of the same dark color at once, but Phichit insisted it was a good look, so much that he didn't let Yuuri change out of it. Victor’s reaction once he saw him at the entrance, though, didn't acknowledge it much. In fact, he acknowledged what _wasn't_ there.

_They’re near the host stand when Yuuri hears a soft, curious hum come from the CEO. They’ve been seated at a low bench furnished in black leather for a few minutes, waiting to be seated. “What…?” Yuuri glances at Victor to see him staring at him intently. Over his shoulder, he can tell the waiter is preparing to lead them to their table._

_“Your outfit…”_

_“Ah...what about it?” Yuuri murmurs, feeling a slight rush of heat to his cheeks and the heightened pace of his heart against his chest as he waits for it. Will Victor compliment him? Praise him? Or…_

_“Why is the tie missing?”_

...What?

_“Uh...I decided not to go for it today?” Yuuri answers earnestly amidst his confusion._

_“I see…,” Victor responds with an amused huff. “Did you realize you should have bought a more extravagant one? Although I have to say your current look is more than appealing by itself.”_

_Yuuri knows he should feel humbled by the statement at the end, but in reality, he's in disbelief more than anything else. The fact that Victor can criticize and compliment him in the blink of an eye is something he isn’t used to, or expecting, for that matter._

“I wonder where the list of drinks is…,” Victor wonders aloud, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts as he flips a page, tilting his head ever so slightly. Yuuri is mildly aware that he should hesitate, at least make sure he's right, but from looking at the menu for so long, especially the last time he was here, the answer comes without much thought.

“The last page.”

Victor glances up and then fixes his eyes on Yuuri for a few apprehensive seconds before flipping to the last page. Lo and behold, the names of various drinks are listed in the center of the page. "Yuuri...how did you know that?" Victor asks, his eyes narrowing almost unnoticeably in curiosity at the other. Victor’s become aware there’s something Yuuri knows that he doesn’t. “You seem to know this menu pretty well, for an answer so quick.”

Finally, the realization hits Yuuri with the force of a bullet train, just like the ones Yuuri rode a few times back in Japan. He freezes, his hands defensively going over his mouth as if he can take back his words. His options now are incredibly limited. "Um, actually…," Yuuri starts before looking down at his lap, silence developing between him and Victor. There’s no need to assess his options when there are so few of them. _He won’t be mad…,_ he tells himself, glancing up briefly and biting his bottom lip. _I might as well tell him...we’re going through with this anyway_. A few moments pass before Yuuri formulates something he can call an adequate answer. "He took me here...and all I could manage to do was look at the menu, so from looking at it so long, I..."

Victor's head tilts slightly, and the smile on his face is an unreadable one. “‘He’?”

“Oh. The guy I met with on Saturday…,” Yuuri elaborates, then decides to finally reveal his name to Victor with a small clearing of his throat. “Seung Gil.”

“I see…,” concedes Victor, in a tone that isn’t completely satisfied nor dissatisfied. Yuuri isn't too worried about how he reacts—they already sorted everything out on Saturday, and Yuuri's intentions are clearer than crystal now that he's changed his status to exclusive—but rather the fact that Victor was probably trying to surprise him by bringing him somewhere high-end and upscale, only to find out Yuuri's had experience here. Assuming his intention was to give Yuuri exposure to new experiences, Yuuri feels just a bit guilty.

Considering he won’t be running away anytime soon, though, he can say he’ll definitely have new experiences even if it is in a slightly familiar place.

“His name was Seung Gil?”

“Oh...I never said his name before, did I,” Yuuri smiles slightly. “He was twenty-eight...and he has a dog, too.”

“Dogs must be your weak spot,” Victor teases with a smooth chuckle that makes Yuuri's cheeks flush with both embarrassment and relief. The tense air he sensed at the beginning has begun to dissipate, and he wonders if it was ever truly there in the first place. “That's understandable, though.”

“I thought that it would make things easier…,” continues Yuuri, a finger playing with the edge of his menu which is no longer hiding him from Victor's gaze. “I couldn’t even bring myself to ask about his dog. In reality, he was nothing like you…it was kind of irrational of me to think that just having a dog would make things go smoothly, now that I really think about it...”

“Like me?” Victor inquires, his menu settled in his lap as every ounce of his attention is poured onto Yuuri, just like Yuuri has slowly begun to get used to.

“He was...cold, in a way. It felt like everything he did was calculated,” Yuuri does his best to explain, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly. He already knows the question on Victor's lips before he hears it.

“And I am…?”

Yuuri hopes his answer isn't as cheesy as it sounds in his mind. From an entire evening in which he compared Seung Gil to Victor, he knows the nuances of Victor's presence, his words, his touch. There's one word that describes it both succinctly and sufficiently. He lets the word escape his mouth before his hesitation can catch up to him and snatch it from his lips.

“...Warm.”

Victor's eyes widen slightly at the quiet firmness in Yuuri’s voice. The answer surprises the CEO, but it doesn't show much. "So...I'm warm?" repeats Victor, making sure Yuuri means what he says.

"Yes," Yuuri softly confirms his feelings to Victor again, only able to keep his gaze for a few seconds before he glances elsewhere, to the kitchen in front of them, the monochrome, abstract art on the wall behind them—but eventually he’s drawn back to same crystal blue eyes. He can feel his cheeks warming up, internally condemning Victor’s question for clarification that only makes Yuuri more aware of what he’s said.

"Ah... really?" Victor asks one more time, testing Yuuri’s patience and composure.

"Yeah…," Yuuri says once more, burying his face into the menu once he decides to add one more word. "Very," he whispers, muffled by the menu but just loud enough for Victor to catch it.

Yuuri can't help it. What else can he say? "Warm" is the best way to put it without making things awkward or complicated. The only other word he can think of is hot, the superlative of his actual answer—that word definitely comes up for more than one reason, and he wouldn’t explain his reasoning behind it even if Victor begged him to—and he's not eager to announce that Victor's simple existence is "hot".

He internally admits that it's not false, though.

"Ah...it looks like it's beginning," says Victor, and Yuuri spares a moment to look up from his menu and see what Victor's talking about. He didn't get this far with Seung Gil, so he's slightly curious to know what the "experience" he referred to entails.

The first dish comes out, Yuuri proceeds to be confused in record time. It’s a small, round plate that can’t be bigger than the palm of his hand, with an upward-facing skewer leaning towards the center and held in place by a hole in the white ceramic. The bottom of the plate is filled with a small amount of ecru, creamy substance Yuuri assumes is a sauce of some sort. On the stick, two small yellow cubes are inserted in the middle, and a golden yellow sphere garnishes the top while a dark brown disk sits on top of it. He can’t gauge what any of the ingredients may be, and the sheer size of it astounds him. _This is one course?_

“Um...what, exactly, is this?” Yuuri looks at Victor, who has already taken the skewer off the plate, carefully sliding it down through the perforation in the ceramic place. The contents that were impaled by the stick slowly come off one by one, sinking into the creamy broth beneath.

“According to the menu, it’s a hot potato,” Victor smiles knowingly, and in one fluid motion he raises the plate to his mouth and tilts it back, eating all of the course’s contents at once. Yuuri watches Victor in slight astonishment. The action reminds Yuuri of the slim, nearly flat, elliptical cups his family has at their hot springs resort, but they were only used for pouring _sake_. _So...I just put it all in my mouth at once? I guess it’s not hot enough that I’ll burn myself, if he can eat it in one go without even wincing._ The eye contact they make afterward is all Yuuri needs to nod, looking down at his own small porcelain plate before mimicking the same procedure Victor took with the skewer. The skewer is surprisingly cool to the touch, but he doesn’t hesitate and immediately lifts the plate to his lips, letting everything spill into his mouth, his tongue immediately overwhelmed by the sudden cold—

_No, hot._

_Cold? Hot?_

Yuuri’s eyes widen at the unexpected temperature precisely because he’s unable to qualify it, his mind in a furious game of tug of war. A chill from that single action spreads all over his body, yet the broth warms his mouth simultaneously. All he can do is sit in place, the food motionless in his mouth, unable to even bite at the cold pieces of food from shock. Thankfully, it starts to warm up on his tongue, and after a few awkward seconds, he remembers to start chewing, albeit with plenty of hesitation and confusion. Slowly setting the plate down as he chews, he can’t say that he feels satisfied with the dish as he swallows. If the “experience” of Alinea is supposed to entail vast amounts of confusion, Yuuri would rate it five stars.

Victor, who was watching the whole time, lets out an airy laugh at the deep furrow of the college student’s eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?” he asks, clearly knowing the answer to that question. He had the same reaction the first time he visited Alinea, but definitely not to the magnitude of what Yuuri’s facial expressions give away.

“Victor…” Yuuri starts, his eyebrows furrowing. “The menu said it was a hot potato, right?”

“They did. The hot broth and yellow sphere were both made of potato.”

“...But the potato on the stick wasn’t hot, right?”

“You could say that.”

"Even though they call it hot potato on the menu?”

“Yes?”

“...Why was it cold?!” he exclaims in earnest surprise. “It felt like I was putting an ice cube in my mouth, but then the broth was so warm, and it felt so strange to deal with both of those temperatures at once without any warning! I feel lied to!” Yuuri goes so far as to not care that he’s pouting at the end. He knows he may be overdoing his reaction, but it really was a shock for him and for his senses, since he didn’t know what he was expecting in the first place.

Victor’s awfully quiet, and Yuuri freezes for a completely different reason now, watching Victor’s expression in case he said something that was offbeat. But once he takes a good look, he sees that Victor is smiling, biting his lower lip to restrain his urge to snicker. After a few seconds, though, he can’t hold back any longer, and he laughs with a degree of lightness that Yuuri hasn’t heard before. It’s casual, what catharsis would sound like if it were an auditory experience, and hearing Victor letting his laughter go without hesitation clears Yuuri’s mind of all criticism of his food. The older of the two doesn’t look like a CEO or a powerful businessman at that moment. Victor Nikiforov is simply a regular man, laughing at how silly Yuuri is reacting to a seemingly simple dish that’s taken his senses on a whirlwind of a journey in the span of a few minutes.

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat at the sight, knowing he’s made Victor this way. Victor is ultimately right. He may seem like worlds away, but in reality, they’re closer than Yuuri thinks.

_Just how big is the difference between us?_

It’s several peculiar dishes later, each one making Yuuri question everything he knew about the way food is cooked and served and presented, that one stands out to him. A waiter brings in two large, shiny black plates and sets them down in front of him and Victor. Once the plate is in full view, though, Yuuri notices that there are two smaller bowls set on top of each other and centered on the plate, flowers are tucked into the snug gap between them. Dry ice is laid around the perimeter on the plate, wisps of cold air trailing and rolling over each other like dense fog on an autumn morning. The rigid but smooth curves of the two bowls and plate on their exterior, along with the latitudinal grooves on the pearly white interior, give the impression of a shell, as if taken from nature itself and not the workshop of an artisan.

Peering into the bowl, Yuuri can only identify one of the ingredients as roe. Glancing back at the menu he’s placed to the side, he skims over each course until finding the one containing roe. _Char roe and chamomile…? Is there tea at the bottom?_ The question arouses something without a name in Yuuri, and he struggles to qualify it as he stares at the other substances in the bowl—spongy white foam, light green and forest green paste, and a yellow grated substance are carefully arranged so that they’re all grouped together instead of mixed, yet placed close enough to each other to show some congruence.

Yuuri picks up the small spoon what came along with the dish after getting tired of simply wondering what the dish is made of, sensing a deeper appreciation for the “experience” and its meaning, which is slowly forming in Yuuri’s mind. For a reason he doesn't understand himself, he’s excited about this dish. The previous dishes were interesting, but this one...it makes him feel a certain warmth, yet loneliness, just by looking at it.

He scoops up a small pile of the roe onto his spoon, then takes care in putting it into his mouth so that he doesn’t drop any of it. The roe bursts in his mouth, coating the inside of his mouth with a slight acidity. Once he swallows, Yuuri then understands exactly what it is that hurts him so about this dish.

"...Victor, does this dish come with anything else? Like...tea? Or rice?" _Those elements are missing, but if they were there, then it would be perfect._

"Tea...? Ah, the chamomile?" Victor inquires, earning a nod from Yuuri. "The light green paste is a chamomile flavored yogurt. And these flowers are chamomile flowers, but you shouldn’t eat them," Victor smiles and holds a flower bud between his index and middle finger. However, when he glances back at Yuuri, he's a bit perplexed by the seemingly distant expression in Yuuri's eyes, accompanied by a guarded smile. "Is something wrong?"

“Mm...not ‘wrong’...I just wish the tea wasn't in a paste," Yuuri smiles softly, but the smile is lonely. "I’d be nice if it was actual tea." The sentence only confuses Victor even more, as it goes hand in hand with a longing warmth in Yuuri's eyes. _What is he searching for?_ is all Victor can wonder.

"Do you not like it?"

"Oh, no, that's not what I mean," Yuuri quickly amends, making sure Victor doesn't get the wrong idea. "It just reminded me of something..." Once he looks deeper into Victor's eyes and sees the questioning gaze in them, he smiles a bit, deciding to open up just a bit more. " _Chazuke_."

" _Chazuke_...?" Victor murmurs in apprehension, waiting and listening intently for Yuuri's explanation.

"It’s a pretty common Japanese dish...it's rice with seasonings on top, and then we usually pour green tea over it. My mom would make it a lot when I was in high school," Yuuri’s smile grows ever so slightly as he looks down at the dish again, with a taste so familiar yet unfamiliar. "Whenever I came home from school saying I was hungry, she would make it for me and tell me to wait for dinner..."

"It sounds good," Victor notes with a smile, and Yuuri laughs a bit.

"It does taste pretty good, but it's a very simple dish for the most part—in terms of complexity, it doesn't compare with what they’ve made for us here. I really liked using seasoning with eggs and fish,” Yuuri’s lips sheepishly turn upwards, “and if my mom wasn't watching I probably would have eaten three or more bowls in one sitting..." He catches Victor staring at him, and his smile turns into a more awkward one. "Sorry, I just started rambling..."

"No…," Victor smiles. "I love hearing you talk about yourself like this, especially since you don’t do it that often. I told you I wanted to know more about you, didn't I? You can continue if you'd like."

Yuuri scratches the back of his head with a small chuckle. "I don't think there’s really anything more to add to such a story..." Hearing those words from Victor isn't surprising--Yuuri is slowly getting accustomed to the spotlight Victor puts him under--but it doesn't make his cheeks any less warm. The person he talks about Hasetsu the most to is Phichit, particularly on days when he feels more homesick than usual. While this moment feels similar, telling Victor has a different aura to it. There’s nothing motivating the recollection of his memories—the memories themselves motivate him to disclose the information to Victor. "That's all I really had to say..."

"Hearing you reminisce reminded me of my own parents' cooking back in St. Petersburg." It's Victor's turn to smile softly. "There's nothing quite like the food from home."

Yuuri feels it then, sees it without seeing, hears it in the depth of Victor’s tone, the connection they've forged together. It's something small, but it's the first time they've been able to relate to each other so substantially, even if it is something as trivial as home-cooked food.

_What was I so worried about?_

Yuuri nods to Victor's statement. "I agree..." A small smiles forms on his face, and he takes the spoon again and takes another bite of the dish. _Chazuke_ , as insignificant as it seems, holds a lot of memories for Yuuri. Of happy days, the rhythm never changing, back in Japan, a rhythm he knows he had to break by going abroad but one that he misses now and then. He looks over to Victor, who's savoring every bite of his dish as well. _Will I be able to make memories like that with Victor...?_ Victor catches Yuuri looking at him, and he grins right back with a heart-shaped smile that makes Yuuri laugh a bit. _I wish time would go by just a little bit slower..._

The last time he felt like this was when Victor drove him home on Saturday, but considering the circumstances—he _is_ in the middle of an expensive, at least 30 course meal with his permanent sugar daddy—he doesn't have a reason to feel this way. He's with Victor right now, eating new things, having new experiences in a familiar place, yet he wishes it wouldn't end. He knows it's selfish to think that way, but he isn't trying to deny it. Having Victor listen so intently, knowing Victor is enjoying being with him, puts him on a new pedestal he wants to stay on. The only other time that he can recall a similar sentiment is being on stage, performing the fruits of his efforts in the movements of his body. But while similar, this is completely different. While on stage, he's proud. He doesn't need anyone else, just himself and the applause that fills the auditorium. But while with Victor, he wants to lay himself bare, in more ways than one. There's a small feeling of longing there, of wanting to be embraced by someone else. Instead of not needing anyone…

Yuuri shakes his head. It's a potentially dangerous idea that he shouldn't let float around, or else he'll begin to believe it, and that isn’t what he wants or needs.

"Ready?" Victor's voice clears Yuuri's mind, and he nods a bit, finding himself a bit excited to discover what's next for them. However, when waiting for a plate to be set down in front of him, he watches as a stone slab is set down instead, with several pieces of wood blazing on top of it. The surge of heat makes Yuuri's eyes widen slightly, and he watches in a bit of shock as they continue to set down a small bowl with a cloudy broth for each of them, and a burgundy bowl with what looks like beans and...tempura?

Victor is already drinking the broth, but feeling a bit adventurous, Yuuri decides to stop imitating and chooses something different. _Something catchy, whatever caught my attention first.._. His eyes are glued to the stone slab, and he notices a pine branch on the side, close to the fire but not touching it. _Ah...I'm probably supposed to eat that, too._

He doesn't glance at Victor even once, simply reaches out, grabs the branch and begins to bring it to his lips, but no further is it than a few inches when Victor's hand is suddenly on his wrist.

"Y-Yuuri, what are you doing?" Victor asks in a surprised tone.

"Uh...I was going to eat this?"

"You're not supposed to," Victor immediately responds, laughing a bit.

"...Oh," is the only reaction Yuuri can manage. He averts his eyes from the dish but looks back when he hears Victor snickering slightly louder. Yuuri's cheeks immediately flush in shame, hastily putting the branch down. But beneath the embarrassment, he feels the need to defend himself boiling up.

"Here, _this_ is what you have to eat," the CEO proceeds to explain, Yuuri immediately knowing that Victor’s isn’t genuine but taunting. Frowning, Yuuri picks up a piece of what Victor is pointing towards. He bites into it, the frown still not going away. _He doesn’t have to show me as if I’m a child..._

"I can't believe you almost took a bite out of a branch," Victor laughs once again, clearly enjoying Yuuri's mistake.

"I mean, considering all the stuff they've served, I don't know what's edible and what isn't anymore…," Yuuri tries to defend himself, a slightly bitter tone to his words.

"But it's a branch."

"Yeah, so? They hid olive bread in a tree earlier, how am I supposed to know?" Referring to a previous dish, Yuuri doesn’t process the fading of his verbal filter, the need to defend himself seeping through. He can usually take teasing, but this is ridiculous. "They had coconut milk shaped in a sphere frozen by liquid nitrogen, butter on a stick, a cold potato in hot broth, chamomile in yogurt, and now they brought out the trunk of a tree, and you think me almost biting a branch is the weirdest thing that's happened so far?"

Yuuri can't stop the words flowing out of his mouth until he looks at Victor again, His mouth hangs half open, looking on the verge of saying something but shushed by the barrage of words Yuuri just shoved in his direction.

_Oh no._

At possibly the most convenient timing, Yuuri now finds his voice stuck in his throat after having let himself go on and on. _Fuck, I said too much…_ He stares at Victor, half in horror and half in anticipation. His rambling is something that usually happens around people like Phichit and his sister, but to say all that out of the blue makes him realize just how much he's begun to rely on his impulses around Victor. _Will he be mad? Annoyed?_ Victor seems to be looking at him with just as much surprise as he initially had, but within a few seconds his lips quirk up, and he laughs once again, this one quicker and lighter than the others. The energy behind it makes Yuuri’s ears burn, but strangely enough, he isn’t ashamed.

“When you put it like that, I guess almost eating a branch pales in comparison, doesn’t it?” he says between small bouts of laughter, and the frail wall of tension Yuuri imagined crumbles down. Smiling sheepishly, he drinks some of the broth and dares to respond once again.

"Give me a fair warning next time, Victor..."

"A fair warning? What would that be?"

"Maybe telling me what not to eat before I try to put everything set out in front of me into my mouth," Yuuri murmurs, laughing just a bit and feeling a weight in his chest lifting as Victor returns the sentiment with that light laugh he's begun to get used to hearing.

_What is there to be hesitant of?_

"Our last course is on its way," Victor announces with a motion of his eyes, and Yuuri turns his head to see the waiter coming back with two balloons.

Yuuri cocks his head to the side. _Balloons...? What are we supposed to do with those?_ The waiter sets down each balloon, a thin string tethering them to a small wooden weight at the bottom to keep them from floating to the ceiling, then promptly walks away after delivering a small bow to them. There are no instructions given, just like the other courses.

"Hey, Yuuri," Victor starts, and there's already an amused tone in his voice. "How do you suppose we eat this?"

 _He's definitely teasing me_ , Yuuri frowns indignantly, knowing Victor hasn’t completely let him go for almost biting a pine branch yet. Nevertheless, he takes a closer look at the balloon, wondering what exactly to do with it. The balloon is thinner than regular balloons he's seen, and he assumes it should be edible since he doubts the string or weight is. _Maybe..._ "Ah...!" he gasps softly as an idea comes to him, taking the string and pulling the balloon closer until it’s at eye level, cautiously putting his lips on the surface and taking a small bite. _Green apple…?_ he wonders if what he's tasting is correct. Air gradually rushes into his mouth, and before it becomes too much, he presses his lips together, wondering if the sticky surface of the balloon will allow it to close up. He's right, and the helium stops flowing into his mouth while the balloon maintains its form.

"I guess we eat it like this," he says absentmindedly, completely forgetting about the higher pitch that results from breathing in helium. After hearing his own voice, he immediately ceases to speak, cheeks burning and a hand going over his mouth. _But if Victor is going to eat the balloon, then…_

"What are you looking at me so intently for?" Victor teasingly asks, chuckling at the pitch of Yuuri's voice. He gets an answer through warm brown eyes flitting from Victor to his untouched balloon. "Oh, how rude of me. I won't keep you waiting."

Without a second of hesitation, Victor takes his balloon and punctures it in the same manner Yuuri did, able to deplete it of the helium inside in one breath. Then, he sets down the string onto his napkin and smiles knowingly at Yuuri, not saying a word. _He's taunting me...he doesn't want to speak._ Yuuri feels a trace of playful indignation bubble up, and he tries to coax Victor into saying something, anything, if he can discover how Victor’s voice has changed.

"So...," Yuuri begins, the pitch only beginning to wear off. The amusement in the twinkle of Victor's eyes and the slight purse of his lips doesn't dare to go unnoticed by Yuuri. "How's work going?"

It's the wrong move. Victor smiles a bit and shrugs.

"Anything interesting?"

A shake of his head.

"Were you really that bored today?"

A pause, and then Victor lifts his hand and tilts to the left and right, a so-so gesture that miffs Yuuri. Thankfully, the effects of the helium have mostly waned for him with those few questions, and he takes a deep breath, ignoring the slight burn of his cheeks and his increasing heart rate as he ventures to murmur the next question, leaning in towards Victor.

"Tonight...what hotel are we going to?"

Victor bites his lip, and that’s the only indication of his cracked composure that Yuuri needs. He wants to answer, Yuuri can see that much in his eyes. Yuuri is tempting him so much, in a way he never predicted, and Victor reconsiders staying silent. Seeing the conflict brewing in Victor’s gaze, Yuuri finds himself spurred on by this newfound confidence, however temporary it may be, along with a rush of adrenaline. _I’ve done this to Victor._

"Victor...please tell me. I want to know where I’m spending the night with you...where we’ll be together, just you and me..." he leaves the rest up to the CEO’s imagination, his voice soft yet sultry, so alluring to Victor's ears. Victor wants to hear his voice when he screams, but he tells himself to be patient. The night is long, after all. But for now...

"...A place with a nice view," he finally responds, unable to hold back. His voice is so much higher than normal, but he could care less. He wants Yuuri. And he knows that Yuuri wants him.

Yuuri tries. He tries so hard. He tells himself he should take it seriously. That Victor's flirting back with him, and he should keep it going since he hasn’t flirted successfully before.

But _god_ , his voice.

"Pfft....s-sorry, I can't....," Yuuri manages to apologize before breaking into laughter. It's too high pitched to take seriously, even if he forced himself to. However, his laughter signals to Victor that his guard is down, and Victor patiently waits for Victor to finish, making comments here and there that only make Yuuri laugh more, an ache building up in the latter’s stomach.

It happens in the span of a few seconds. Yuuri’s laughter is finally calming down, and as he begins to regain his composure he doesn’t notice how much closer Victor is moving towards him, how Victor’s eyes gaze into him until he’s close enough to murmur in his ear, and Yuuri finds out Victor’s voice has returned to normal.

“You can’t what, baby boy?”

Yuuri can’t recall having ever fallen silent so quickly before. The ache in the pit of his stomach is of a completely different kind, virtually able to feel the desire dripping from Victor’s voice. Heat frantically travels all over his face. Yuuri wasn’t expecting Victor to do something so daring in public. Calling him _that_ in such a low voice, with a glass wall putting them in view of all the cooks and waiters... He bites his lip, and Victor chuckles as he leans away, his eyes not any less intense.

“That’s what I thought.”

Yuuri wants to leave the restaurant as soon as possible. He wishes they were a walk down the hall from their hotel room. The full force of his impatience has just now hit him in earnest.

“Looks like you’re anxious to go somewhere, Yuuri. I wonder where it could be,” Victor says teasingly, already knowing what Yuuri’s thinking. The student doesn't have a good answer to give, so he averts his gaze and continues to eat his balloon, realizing that after this they'll be on their way to the hotel.

 _Finally_ .

"...You never answered my question," Yuuri murmurs after his mind wanders, a bit embarrassed as he realizes the pitch of his voice has gone up again, although not as much as the first time—just enough to draw a snicker from Victor.

"I didn't answer what?" he teases.

"The hotel...which one?"

"Curious tonight, aren't you?" Victor insinuates before leaning towards Yuuri with a smile that says more than it shows. "It's called the Hyatt Regency. Have you heard of it?"

Yuuri thinks for a few moments before recognizing the name, nodding slightly—and then his breath is sucked from his lungs. He feels warmth teasing his outer thigh, an index finger trailing across the hem of his pants, and his eyes are glued to Victor. He can't dare to look down and see that hand wandering on his leg. They're both positioned so that Victor's hand is out of sight of the waiter and the kitchen, so when his hand begins to slide closer, Yuuri feels a tingle up his spine, and he manages to whisper, "Victor..."

"Hm...?"

"...Let's leave," Yuuri jumps to the first proposition he thinks of, his own words surprising himself. At once, Victor's eyes widen a bit, and then his lips curl just enough to make warmth pool in Yuuri's stomach, knowing that Victor can't wait to leave either. That smile is anticipation, desire, and an unspoken promise at all once, each of them a powerful force and ending up at the same point: the hotel room.

They don't clearly recall the details of leaving. Yuuri and Victor manage to finish all the courses including their dessert, and within minutes they're waiting on the curb, Victor's hand resting on Yuuri's waist as they wait for their chauffeur. Traces of chilly March temperatures in Chicago have come to visit in mid-April, and Yuuri is glad he decided to bring a scarf along. As for Victor, he’s brought along a hazel-tinted coat that flows down to his knees, the double-breasted front unbuttoned and exposing his light grey vest and royal blue tie, the silk shining under the lamplight. Yuuri would be unaware of the black gloves on the CEO’s hands if not for the pressure on his waist, holding him comfortably close. They don’t see a need to talk in that moment. The street is a more secluded one, but Yuuri is still keenly aware of their proximity and the thumb rubbing his side and the floral scent with a hint of chamomile wafting off of Victor's body, something he finally recognizes as cologne once Victor opens the car door for him. He silently gets in, watching as Victor follows after.

Yuuri is restless. It doesn't make much sense, considering he's only gone through with sex with Victor once. But just that one night is more than enough to make him want more, to experience the sensation of giving in to Victor's touch, his smell, his voice, his smooth hands, his—

"We're here."

"...Oh," Yuuri exhales, clearing his mind as much as he can. He has to make it to their hotel room before he completely gives in. And tonight, he has a plan.

"This way," Victor motions as Yuuri steps out, Yuuri finding his heart pounding against his chest. Contrary to what it may have been from before, though, when he knew Victor as a stranger and only as a stranger, he's well aware that excitement is what fuels each frantic beat and makes his hands clammy. He wants Victor.

He wishes Victor had checked in earlier, just as he did last week. He swallows as Victor goes to the desk to retrieve their key, already beginning to feel an odd yearning to be closer to the man as soon as possible. Maybe it’s his excitement. Or his fear. He doesn't know how Victor will receive the request floating in his mind, but he wants to try. He doesn’t have anything to lose. Rather, Victor has something to gain.

"Ready?" Victor walks over to him with a steady, calm smile that shields the smolder in his eyes that is apparent to no one else in the world but Yuuri. Just holding his gaze for a few seconds has Yuuri forgetting to breathe. "Let's head up."

Yuuri can feel it once they reach their floor. It began to surge at the beginning of dinner, calmed once the grandeur of the food distracted him, and is now bubbling up again. He's impatient. It's been a week and a half since his first time with Victor, and he's already craving more. Not only that, he feels just a bit braver. Brave enough to make his proposal.

"Here," Victor murmurs, turning to their room. He continues to speak as he unlocks the door and holds the door open, Yuuri stepping in first. The curtains are drawn, and the room is bathed in darkness. "It's nothing special since we're not staying overnight..."

"That's fine...," Yuuri calmly responds, inaccurately reflecting the craze his heart is in. In minutes—no, seconds—he'll be alone, isolated with Victor.

The door clicks shut behind them, and all is silent except for their even breaths filling the air between them. Then, Victor breaks it.

"I'll go open the curtains."

His hand is firm on Yuuri's waist, the pressure taunting and suggestive and reassuring all at once, and the heat in Yuuri's stomach only stirs faster as it slips away a tantalizing second later, leaving him wanting more. The pitch black room hides the crack in his composure well. He can make out the vague form of the Russian man as he walks over to the opposite side of the room, pulling back the long curtains to reveal long, floor-to-ceiling windows. The tens of hundreds of thousands of city lights coming from the skyscrapers of the heart of Chicago, as well as Victor's dark outline contrasting so starkly with it, takes Yuuri's breath away in one fell swoop. It doesn’t matter that the bed takes up most of the space in the room. It doesn’t matter that there isn’t a kitchen or a large bathroom with extravagant walls. The room doesn’t matter. As his eyes continue to adjust, he can see that the room is decently sized, but the view is far from "nothing special".

_This is...I should..._

"...Victor," he begins, his voice a low murmur, knowing he doesn't need to speak any louder for Victor to hear him, especially as he walks over to Yuuri and stands in front of him. Suddenly, all the lights from the view outside seem to flicker and go out, Yuuri’s attention solely on the man in front of him and the words swimming through his mind, trying to find the best way to say them.

"What is it, Yuuri?" An index finger makes its way down from Yuuri's jaw to his chin, lingering for a moment before leaving as Yuuri gulps, then answers.

"Can I...do something?"

Victor's eyes widen ever so slightly in amusement, wondering what Yuuri has in store for him. Yuuri has been surprising him all evening, and he has a feeling that whatever Yuuri suggests will be something irresistible. "What would you like to do?”

Yuuri's hand trembles slightly as he lifts it up, but the determination doesn't leave his face. He presses his hand against Victor's crotch, earning a small, unprepared gasp from Victor. "...I want to give you a blowjob," he declares, not knowing where the calmness in his voice comes from, stroking Victor lightly through his pants and slowly getting him hard. "Please," Yuuri adds.

He's thankful the room is dark and Victor's body prevents a majority of the light from the view outside from exposing just how heated Yuuri's face has become. He's staring at the buttons of Victor's suit, the way the jacket sits snugly at his waist and hips even when unbuttoned, and the fact that he can't stop his mouth from watering just a bit will remain a secret to the world until his death and beyond. _His jacket is gone...when did he take it off?_ They spend a few moments in silence, Yuuri's hand palming Victor in the way he knows feels best for himself, and he can feel the result of his efforts growing harder, hotter. He isn't turning back.

Victor doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he reaches forward and slowly unwraps the scarf from Yuuri’s neck, Yuuri able to hear all the ways Victor’s breath rises and falls and hitches and pauses, in awe that he’s able to do so.

"Alright," Victor finally responds, and Yuuri can hear the tension in the wind of his voice. "What should I do?"

"Um...," Yuuri murmurs, his hand slowing down a bit and taking a moment to think through his lust, "...can you sit on the bed?"

Victor doesn't need to be told twice. They both walk over to the queen-sized bed, Victor sitting on the edge. They've both adjusted to the darkness for the most part by now, and Yuuri doesn't dare to look at him as he pauses for a moment, then gets down on his knees, his heart leaping as he sees that he's level to the growing, definitely noticeable bulge in Victor's pants. Victor begins to reach for the zipper, but Yuuri reaches it before he does, doing his best to keep his hands from shaking. Victor's mouthwork is a miracle, if their first night together is anything to judge by—Yuuri hopes he can compare.

They both watch Yuuri's hands as they bring the zipper down, pull down the smooth pants a few inches, then brush against Victor's underwear. In his moment of hesitation, Yuuri notes that Victor is wearing bikini briefs again, ears burning as he uses a finger to lift up the black fabric and pull it to the side. Blood pounds in his ears, a frantic drumming as he faintly touches, takes hold of, then pulls out the throbbing cock in front of him.

He doesn't need to worry about accidentally looking at Victor. His eyes are glued to the length in front of him.

After realizing how intensely he’s staring at the half-hard dick in front of him, Yuuri takes a deep breath to calm himself down. The inside of his head is swirling, thinking about how full he's going to be again, but he knows he can’t lose it just yet. He needs to pleasure Victor first.

Yuuri decides to rest his left hand on Victor’s still-clothed thigh, and wraps his right hand around the shaft, slowly rubbing it up and down. Being the first time he’s touched it but definitely not the first time he’s felt it, Yuuri’s mind wanders to last week, remembering how hard Victor’s cock felt, how full it felt with Victor inside him. A shiver runs up his spine, knowing that the length of it now will be nothing compared to when Victor's ready to fuck him. The thought of him even getting Victor to that state excites him, and he tightens his grip. The ministrations earn a soft grunt from Victor, and Yuuri takes it as a sign to do more. He moves this hand to the base of Victor’s cock, pulling back the foreskin as he sticks his tongue out just slightly. Leaning in, his breath ghosts over the trip for a few seconds before he drags his tongue across the head. Almost immediately, Victor is louder, the groan from him coming from deeper in his throat. The tip feels warm against his tongue, a feeling Yuuri hasn’t felt in a while. He flicks his tongue against the now firmer top, before taking the whole head into his mouth. Victor’s breath hitches before he moans again, Yuuri feels the tension increase in his legs, and it only eggs Yuuri on more.

Yuuri takes more of the erection into his mouth slowly but surely, making sure he doesn’t push his comfort zone since it’s been months since the last time he’s given a blowjob. After taking a couple inches in he slowly takes his mouth off, flicking at the top with this tongue again before repeating the process.

After pulling away again, Yuuri feels the need to speak up. His breath is warm against Victor’s skin, staring intently at the gradually growing length. “I’m trying to figure out how to do this comfortably again…I haven’t done this in a while…"

He doesn't get a response from Victor, and even if he expected one he has no idea what Victor would say. Right now, though, his mind is occupied with the length he’s holding, the way the vein on the underside pulses under his hands as he slowly pulls back the foreskin again, revealing the smooth pink head. Yuuri brings his tongue to the head once more, swirling it around the tip before trailing all the way down the shaft, hearing and sensing a small hitch in the CEO’s voice. He bites his bottom lip before leaning in closer, his cheek touching Victor’s thigh as he licks Victor’s balls. Victor groans, never expecting Yuuri to do something like that at this point. Then, Yuuri begins to switch between sucking softly on the skin and kissing the base for a few seconds at a time, his mind focusing less on thinking about what to do and more on simply doing it. He continues for just a bit longer before he pulls away.

He gulps, then leans in again after composing himself, his tongue slowly rolling over the tip before his mouth envelopes it, the action feeling much more relaxed than a few minutes ago and indicative of how much Yuuri has let go of his inhibitions since starting his blowjob. Relaxing his jaw, he decides to close his eyes and focus more on the sensation than anything else. He's aware of Victor's uneven breath above him, especially the way it hitches when he gradually takes in more of his length. After a few moments, he doesn't pay much attention to anything else besides the bobbing of his head and the swirl of his tongue when he pulls back to the tip and the soft groans he pulls from Victor's chest—his own muffled by Victor’s pulsing length—and his own half-hard cock beginning to press against his own pants, his mind imagining all the things that can happen from here. All the things that _will_ happen from here.

He doesn't know what switch he flips in Victor, but suddenly he's gently pushing Yuuri off by the shoulder so that he doesn't continue, a shuddering exhale coming from the CEO. Then he speaks, his voice slightly less composed than Yuuri remembers.

"Get on the bed."

The simple command makes heat stir in Yuuri’s stomach, but he’s still capable of realizing he wanted to keep going. “But...I didn’t finish,” Yuuri starts, but Victor shakes his head. He’s made his desires clearer than crystal.

“Get on the bed, Yuuri,” Victor repeats, a demanding edge in his voice, and Yuuri doesn’t try to say anything more. He gets up from the floor, his knees a little sore from kneeling down. He first sits next to Victor, but then moves back towards the center of the bed and lays down, head in the pillows, waiting to see what Victor will do. His heart pounds against his chest, ready for whatever Victor intends to do. It’s been so long, so short in reality but far too long in Yuuri’s mind.

Victor moves after Yuuri, positioning his legs on either side of him. Victor looks down, and Yuuri meets his gaze for a quick second, then abashedly averts it, not having the mental strength to look him in the eyes at a time like this. Victor doesn’t notice, however, because he’s more focused on something else.

“Take off your clothes."

It's said so simply, so calmly, yet Yuuri can feel the tension dripping from every syllable on Victor's tongue. He sees it as well, once he brings his hands up to his shirt and begins to unbutton it. He assumes Victor will just watch him, but he glances up just a bit and sees Victor undressing right along with him, almost mirroring his movements. He can sense the urgency and the need for both of them to touch, to be connected like they were before, and Yuuri wishes the moment could come faster. He doesn’t notice how much they both speed up after coming to that realization.

In a matter of seconds they're nearly bare, Yuuri down to his boxers and Victor to his briefs, somewhere along their maneuver to undress their position changing so that Yuuri's laying on his stomach, reminiscent of the last time they found themselves like this. The wet kisses Victor plants down Yuuri's spine leave a trail of fire, Yuuri inhaling sharply and his back arching slightly at the sensation. He can feel the haste on Victor's lips, and he's still trying to figure out what made Victor suddenly become so urgent.

He doesn't have too much time to think, though. Victor's hands are traveling up his sides, lingering for a few moments before slipping under the weight of Yuuri's body and finding his nipples. Victor's mouth travels across his shoulder while his fingers pinch the soft nubs, something he didn’t do too often last time, so it’s fairly surprising when he does so now.

Yuuri whines softly at Victor's fingers working at his nipples, and Victor bites down on Yuuri's shoulder upon hearing his small noises. Yuuri bites on his bottom lip so that louder sounds won't escape his lips as Victor leaves his marks on him. He finds his actions challenged almost immediately, though, in the slow press of Victor’s cock against his ass, a slow rotation mimicking the dizziness flooding Yuuri’s mind at the sensation. They go hand in hand: the pinch of his nipples, followed by a thrust that brings forth sounds from deep inside Yuuri that he didn’t know he could make.

"Yuuri, sit on my lap...put your back on my chest," he says as he leans away, his ministrations momentarily slowing as Yuuri nods, knowing what Victor wants to do. Victor sits up, and Yuuri follows his directions. It's an unusual position for Yuuri, something he’s never really tried before, but like this, he notices that compared to him, Victor's chest is broader and he fits just fine, the position not uncomfortable at all. Victor brings his hands around Yuuri’s waist, hands sliding up from his abdomen, and once he reaches Yuuri’s chest he begins to twist at his nipples again, noting how much harder they’ve become since he began to touch him like this.

Yuuri isn't sure what it is about this position that makes him feel more exposed. Maybe it's the fact that he isn't able to grab at the bedsheets as easily, or the fact that his back is flush against Victor's chest, or the faint floral scent coming off of Victor, that same cologne he was wearing, he absentmindedly realizes as he shudders, when he bought Yuuri his watch. What he does know is that Victor's fingertips are slowly driving him insane.

"A-ah...," Yuuri gasps softly as Victor ventures to be a bit rougher, rolling his nipples between his fingers just a bit faster and just a bit harder, enough to make a shiver run down Yuuri's spine and make his legs weak. He sinks a bit, and when he does the first thing he notices is the hardness pressing against his ass, Victor's cock still warm and throbbing from Yuuri's blowjob. He has to admit to himself that knowing he made Victor aroused like this is more than satisfying, and before he loses courage, he seeks to do it again by tentatively rolling his hips back while Victor twists his nipples.

And _god,_ his voice.

Almost instantly, he hears it. The sharp intake of breath, and then a rumbling groan from the chest of the man behind him. Yuuri feels proud for a fleeting moment, and then they set a rhythm. Victor pinches. Yuuri's hips roll. Victor's length throbs, and his breath wavers. Yuuri lifts his hips slightly, and Victor does it again. A twist, a roll, a hitch, a lift. Repeat. Slow at first, but slowly gaining momentum and stealing both of their breaths away...

Yuuri isn't sure how much time passes like that. To be honest, his mind blanks, and all he can really keep his mind on is the pleasure he's found in this pattern. But he wants more, and he knows Victor does, too.

"Yuuri," Victor’s voice is hotly close to his ear, breaking the pattern they’ve established as he speaks. "Bend over."

Yuuri's too impatient, especially after feeling Victor's cock against him, the only barrier their underwear. He can't take it anymore. Knowing and feeling how hard they both are, how much they want each other, he’s overwhelmed by a hunger to be full. He didn't realize how much he needed it. Yuuri doesn’t waste a moment in getting off of Victor's lap and bending over, following Victor's every command if it means it’ll bring him closer to being full.

Victor gets off the bed and picks up the lube on the table next to it, the lights of the city offering some illumination as Yuuri stares, then bites his lip as he finds himself enthralled by the hills and valleys of Victor’s body, almost unable to believe that that body was so close to him just a few seconds ago. By now, Yuuri knows the feel of lube and how to be prepared, so Victor doesn't have to warn him about the liquid being cold, or what he may feel. He gets back on the bed, bottle in hand, and Yuuri can hear the cap pop open. "Are you ready?" Victor calmly asks as he pours some lube into his right hand, coating his fingers with the slick substance. He wants to be as thorough as possible, but his impatience is also motivating him, especially when he uses his free hand to slide it up from Yuuri’s calf to the edge of his boxers, hearing a low whine in response.

"Yeah...," Yuuri responds, and immediately after that his boxers are removed in a few hasty tugs, sensing that Victor was waiting for his permission before having his way with him. A few seconds later, he feels Victor's fingers probe against his asshole, making him gasp softly.

Yuuri waits for the first finger, telling himself to relax, but the longer Victor simply runs his index finger along the rim of his entrance the more exasperated he gets. He wants to feel full, just like the first time. He needs it. His patience is running out.

"Vic—! V-victor...," Yuuri has to pause between syllables. Just as he was about to say something, Victor's finger begins to enter him, rendering him silent and biting his lip. _More._ Yuuri's hands grasp for an object, finding a pillow, then holds onto it as Victor's finger goes deeper and deeper until it's completely aside, Yuuri letting out a shuddering moan. He's so close to getting what he wants, but he knows there's more. He knows what it feels like to be gradually prepared and filled, and what it culminates in after fingers are no longer enough.

"U-ungh...," Yuuri's hips rotate slightly, and without warning another finger enters him, making him gasp and tighten his legs so that he won't be laying stomach down on the bed. In doing so, though, he only further arouses the CEO, who is clearly enjoying the view. An idea pops into Victor's mind, and he slows the pumping his fingers into Yuuri. Yuuri whimpers lightly, annoyed that Victor stopped what he was doing so early. He's suddenly become so needy, he wants this so much. But Victor has decided he isn't about to give it to him so easily.

"Do you want it?" Victor asks, teasing Yuuri. He knows the answer already. He just wants to hear Yuuri say it.

Yuuri moans softly as he nods. But his answer isn't enough for Victor. Victor huffs and slows down even more before he comes to a complete stop.

Yuuri can’t stop himself from groaning lowly in frustration and impatience. "Victor... please…," he begs, but even after begging, he isn't about to wait for Victor to start moving again. No, he’s seen from these first few minutes with Victor that he’s capable of doing things on his own. Yuuri slowly pushes his hips back until he reaches the base of Victor's fingers, and then moves back forward. He repeats the movements himself over and over, controlling the pace himself, letting out high, stringy moans that make both of their heads spin.

“Y-Yuuri…”

Yuuri finds a different way to beg, one that involves his hips rather than his lips. An unspoken plea is whispered with every push back onto those two fingers, then eventually three. Yuuri's breath is heavy with each movement, mind going hazy as heat pools in his gut, wanting to be filled so badly he doesn't know what else to do with himself anymore. All he can focus on is those fingers, slowly going deeper and deeper and—

"Ahh!" Yuuri's body spasms with the sudden curl of Victor's fingers, vision going white for a split second, and then he's trembling, not knowing when Victor will decide to do it again. He keeps pushing back, however, much to Victor's amusement.

"You've gotten a little sloppy," Victor notes, his voice enough to set Yuuri's skin on fire. All Yuuri can do is mumble a hasty apology between breathy moans. "You haven't done this much before, have you?" Victor knows all too well that he's Yuuri's first experience with penetrative sex, but what Yuuri's done with himself is another story.

"Nngh...no..." Yuuri gasps as Victor's fingers curl inside him, rubbing the sweet spot he's found, then exhales shakily. "J-just, ugh...by myself...once or t-twice, ah..." His grip on the pillow makes his knuckles white by now, and he feels precum dripping onto the sheets below him, not caring less how much he’s dirtying the bed.

Victor doesn't answer with his mouth. Instead, his fingers do all the talking. Yuuri loses track of what he says and how his hips move once Victor grips Yuuri's hip with his free hand and then relentlessly thrusts his fingers inside of Yuuri. The pleasure washes over him in a matter of seconds, and his legs slowly turn into jelly with each thrust, each press of his fingertips to that sweet spot. In between his moans, Yuuri can near noise behind him after Victor’s hand leaves his waist—the sound of plastic tearing. Once he realizes what it is, his entire body shudders. Soon, he'll be full again.

Victor takes his fingers out of Yuuri a few minutes later, enjoying the pleasured sigh that comes from the man below him, and rolls on the condom. Yuuri whines at the loss a few moments later, but he knows that what he really wants will be in him soon.

The condom is slicked up with lube, and Victor decides to tease Yuuri a bit before giving him what he wants. First, his hands grab and squeeze Yuuri’s ass while he positions himself, pushing Yuuri’s legs further apart to position both of his legs between them. Then, he rubs his dick between Yuuri's cheeks, making Yuuri want to scream. "Please, Victor..." he moans, almost breathless, his ass covered and filled with lube but not what he really wants, not what he’s wanted all week. "Put it in me...please..."

However, nothing happens after he asks, and Victor backs away. Yuuri waits for a few moments, wondering if Victor is just preparing himself a bit more, but even then nothing occurs.

"V-Victor...?"

Then, Victor’s body is firmly pressed against Yuuri’s, his breath heavy and hot on Yuuri’s ear. Just the pressure of their bodies is enough to make a small whine escape from Yuuri’s throat. "Sit on me again, Yuuri. Guide my cock into yourself, if you want it that bad," he smirks with his words, and Yuuri gulps. He hasn't done anything like that before, either, but at this point he doesn’t care. He’ll do whatever it takes to be filled by Victor again.

After declaring that, Victor leans away, and Yuuri knows what he wants him to do. He gets up from his position and scoots backward until their bodies are close, almost touching, but not quite. Using his hand and Victor's thighs as leverage, he lifts himself up slightly. He reaches back so he can grab onto Victor's length with one hand, and with that same hand pushes his cheeks apart.

His head spins as he realizes what he's about to do, but the lust ultimately outweighs his embarrassment, and after taking a deep breath he begins guiding Victor's cock into him. With the push past the second ring of muscle, Yuuri moans softly, then tells himself to relax as Victor slowly but surely fills him, inch by inch until he's full, and then they stop. There's only the noise between them, the uneven breaths and Victor's hand sliding down his back, and then a murmur into his ear. "Hang onto the headboard."

Yuuri's eyes open slightly—he never really noticed he closed them until now—and when he does the sight in front of him takes his breath away. With the curtains pulled back, the windows expose the shining skyline to them, and exposes them to the skyline. Almost instantly, his hands grip the headboard in front of him as a shudder runs down his spine. He can feel Victor's hips itching to move, so he answers the unspoken question. "You can move."

Victor doesn't need to be told twice. A soft moan inscribed in an exhale is drawn from Yuuri by those lips on the nape of his neck, kissing and sucking. With his hands on Yuuri's waist, Victor starts thrusting up into the smaller man on his lap, earning increasingly broken, breathless moans from Yuuri. Yuuri's grip tightens on the headboard as Victor continues to pound into him, bouncing Yuuri on his lap.

"V-Victor..." Yuuri moans out, the feeling of Victor’s hands gripping his ass sending a thrill through his body. He wants to give in even more, to let Victor do anything he wants, but that's not quite right, either. There's something about Victor's grip that makes Yuuri want the opposite—what that is, he isn't sure.

"Mm?" Victor responds, too busy running his hands up Yuuri's sides until they reach his chest. Without warning, he goes back to pinching Yuuri's nipples.

"Nngh...hot...!" Yuuri’s voice unexpectedly hitches, resulting in a yelp.

"What was that, Yuuri?" Victor asks once more, smirking into Yuuri's ear as he pinches again. If he wasn't already on his knees, he would have fallen to them by now. That question is the last barrier, and Yuuri succumbs to it with an ease that frightens him.

"You're so hot...inside me..."

Yuuri finally lets out loud moans, unable to control himself anymore as Victor's hips continue to slam into Yuuri, the delicious friction with every movement causing both Yuuri and Victor to want more and more. His grip on the headboard is shaky at best, the feeling of being rocked back and forth by Victor’s thrusts driving him insane. He doesn't understand what’s different from their first time, why it's so much more intense and faster and deeper and _better._ He didn't think it was possible.

It's lewd, but all Yuuri can really think about is the sound of skin slapping on skin and the grip Victor has on his nipples, but his hands are already wandering in the next few moments, sliding down his sides as Yuuri's breath hitches before a shaky moan slips from his lips. They continue, just the right amount of pressure as those slender fingers wander below his hips, to his ass, and then Yuuri stiffens as those hands grip his ass, using the hold as leverage as Victor decides to thrust in deeper, and Yuuri's mouth opens with a gasp and a silent cry. His back arching, he lays back on Victor's chest while grasping the headboard as if it's his lifeline. He was a fool to think he didn’t need to hold onto it. In reality, it's the only thing keeping him figuratively and literally grounded. But soon after, he discovers the consequences of his decision. The first is the angle that allows Victor to reach even deeper, so much that the first thrust makes Yuuri's body tremble. The second is the heavy breathing by his ear, the uneven inhales and intermittent exhales, and he loses his mind once Victor's voice purrs with pride and lust.

"You're mine."

It's a miracle he doesn't come then and there.

Yuuri shudders at Victor’s possessive words, and Victor takes one of his hands off of Yuuri’s ass, running it through Yuuri’s hair and pulling him closer. Yuuri bites back a whine as Victor chuckles into Yuuri’s ear, his breath tickling Yuuri’s skin.

“Did you hear what I said, Yuuri? You’re mine,” he repeats with a rough edge in his voice, biting down on Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri can feel himself getting closer and closer to his release, precum dribbling down his throbbing length, but Victor has another idea. He lets go of Yuuri’s hair and brings his hand down to Yuuri’s crotch, wrapping his thumb and index finger around the base of Yuuri’s dick, preventing him from coming anytime soon. _Oh, fuck_ , Yuuri wants to scream, but instead a desperate, choked sob racks his chest. Afterwards, Yuuri lets out a gasp at the pressure now around him, not letting him release. Victor groans into Yuuri’s ear and murmurs a single question. “Who do you belong to?"

Yuuri knows the answer as soon as the question is asked. Right now, the one in control of him, the one dominating him, the one making a mess out of him, the one inside of him is Victor. He may as well have Yuuri wrapped around his finger.

"Victor...," Yuuri gasps, but they both know he isn't answering the question but calling out. Without realizing it, he's started pushing his hips back to meet Victor's thrusts, but the deeper and harder his thrusts are, the more his desire to release mounts, and then he remembers he can't. "V-victor, ah...please..."

Victor pays him no heed. He decides to drag his tongue down Yuuri's ear, to the junction between his jaw and his neck, and then bites down. Yuuri's hips spasm and a sharp inhale is followed by a broken, desperate groan. Victor's hot breath fans over his skin, giving him chills and lighting his skin on fire all at once. “Yuuri, look out the window. Think of all the people in this city. I'm the only one who gets to see you like this. Now, tell me...who do you belong to?"

And with that, Victor thrusts at just the right angle to make stars fly in Yuuri's eyes.

“A-ahhh…!” Yuuri screams out as Victor fucks that spot of his, screams as he can’t come even though he wants to, even though he needs to. His moans only get louder until his voice is hoarse, Victor biting and sucking behind Yuuri’s ear, and Yuuri doesn't have to look to know there’ll be a dark spot there later.

Victor doesn’t slow down in his thrusts, and Yuuri is so overwhelmed he throws his head back into the crook of Victor’s neck, Victor unable to continue his biting. He's panting for breath, fingernails digging into the headboard. The question is still left in the air, though, so Victor asks again, his voice low but uneven, smooth but breathless.

“Who do you belong to, baby boy?”

He can't hold back anymore. The words spill out, needing to feel release as soon as possible.

“I-I’m…yours…!” he screams, and upon hearing that, Victor releases his hand from the base of Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri sees white, immediately releasing all over the sheets with a gasp. With Yuuri’s shuddering body in his arms, Victor thrusts a few more times before he himself releases, biting down on Yuuri’s shoulder with a loud groan.

Yuuri hears the shuddering groans behind him, then feels a hand on his hip as Victor buries himself deep inside him. Their climaxes have turned both of their thoughts into incoherent traces of words, and as Yuuri opens his eyes he's greeted by the same sight in front of him, the city spread out in front of him as he's completely exposed to the man inside him, Victor Nikiforov. _I'm_ … His blood pounds in his ears as he recalls what he said when he screamed out his answer. However, even as he leans against Victor's back with his hands still on the headboard that was shaking a couple of minutes ago, he hasn't gotten a response from Victor. Their breaths slowly return to normal, and Yuuri realizes that contrary to previous encounters, he isn't quite so spent that he's ready to lie down and sleep for the night. Those words keep replaying in his head.

Victor carefully lets go of Yuuri, pulling himself out. He taps on the bed, which Yuuri looks over, and takes it as an invitation to lie down. He nods and lies down, the muscles in his back unwinding as his body hits the sheets. Victor lays right next to him, and they both take a few minutes to catch their breaths, the air above them coming to a standstill as their momentum slows to a stop.

 _Will he say something about my answer?_ Yuuri wonders as he turns to his side, looking at the panting Victor. Victor’s breathing is starting to stabilize, and he turns so he can face Yuuri. He smiles a bit before brushing the hair out of Yuuri’s face. “Would you like to get cleaned up?”

 _Ah_ … Yuuri thinks. _Maybe he won’t address it…_ He nods to Victor’s question, however, smiling slightly with the energy he has left. _Maybe he’ll say something about it later._

Victor rests for only a few more moments before he speaks up again. “Would you like to take a shower, or do you want me to take care of you?"

Yuuri can only keep his gaze for a few seconds before nodding slightly and murmuring, breathing mostly under control, "Could I take a shower...?"

"Of course," Victor smiles a bit before standing from the bed. He takes a few moments to glance around, finding his briefs with an amused huff a few seconds later and slipping them on. "I completely lost track of my clothes."

Yuuri can't help smiling slightly at that. "Me too...I don't remember much from when we undressed..." He can't pinpoint it, but there's something off, something he feels is missing.

Victor takes a moment to run his hands through his hair, the silver strands shining in the dim light, the way his fringe flows back into his face as smooth as silk curtains swaying in an ocean breeze. Then he turns to Yuuri. "I'll get the water started and then you can get in. Do you need help getting up?"

Yuuri feels heat climbing up his neck at the memory of just how mobile, or rather, immobile, he was the morning after their first time. "No...I don't feel too drained, so I should be able to do it myself..."

"Alright. I'll be back," Victor announces, walking down the small hallway before disappearing into the bathroom.

Yuuri doesn't get up right away. His mind is still reeling, barely regaining its balance from the rollercoaster of emotions that Victor took him on in less than an hour. As he closes his eyes, those same words echo in his mind. _When he asked who I belonged to...was he serious? When I answered, it didn't really feel like it was restricted to what we were doing at the moment...but he told me not to worry about his dominance in bed. Is this part of it? He was acting a little more aggressive than last time, a lot more dominating than last time, but if he says we're only getting started, then..._

"Yuuri, the water's running. Did you fall asleep?"

Not even realizing his eyes were closed, Yuuri sits up in surprise, then curses softly as he feels a slight strain in his lower back. It isn't enough to be deemed painful, but he takes a mental note not to make too many sudden movements.

"Sorry..."

Victor doesn't respond at first, simply watching as Yuuri manages to get out of bed without any help. The first few steps make Victor chuckle, as Yuuri's legs wobble slightly before regaining stability, but afterward he simply picks up Yuuri's clothes and follows him to the bathroom.

"You look like something's on your mind."

"Huh...?" Yuuri murmurs, turning to look at Victor as he enters the bathroom.

"Usually you're very relaxed, but you seem more thoughtful than usual." Victor tilts his head as he runs his hand down Yuuri's back, stopping at the small of his back. "Was I a little lacking today?"

"What? Of course not," Yuuri immediately responds, then tries to ignore the blush burning his ears as he processes the answer he gave without much thought. "You're...you definitely did more than enough. It felt really good."

"Then...?"

Yuuri bites his lip, trying to find the best way to navigate the maze of words in his mind in order to get the right point across to Victor. "I guess...I'm just thinking a lot about what you were saying...what you were asking...I'm probably just overthinking it, actually..."

Victor’s eyes widen, and realizes what he’s done. “Oh…,” is what he can manage to say for the moment before he goes into his thoughts, trying to form his thoughts a way that Yuuri will understand. Yuuri isn’t as experienced as Victor, and that slipped Victor’s mind for a moment. Sensing that Victor wants to tell him something, Yuuri stands in the frame of the bathroom door, waiting, staring at Victor and hoping he has an answer for the unsettling feeling in his chest.

“Well, first off, if you didn’t like it, tell me after I’m done explaining so I don’t do it again,” Victor starts, and Yuuri nods at what Victor said. Victor takes that nod and then proceeds to explain. “Of course, I don’t mean what I was telling you. What we do in bed stays in bed, and has no reflection on your life outside of it— _our_ lives outside of it, for that matter. For me, talk like that turns me on, but it’s all just talk. You are your own person, Yuuri. You belong to yourself, and to yourself only,” reassures Victor as he caresses the side of Yuuri’s face. “Just remember that, okay? We’re equal, and I really mean that. I’m sorry for being aggressive.”

After hearing all that, Yuuri has to take a few moments to take it all in, to store it deep inside him now that he’s gained a new appreciation of Victor. The unease he felt earlier was definitely because of this, and hearing those words has calmed him a bit. He nods, understanding what Victor means now, and from now on he knows that the fear that stems from saying such a definitive thing will be difficult to take root.

"It's not that being aggressive with didn't...uh...turn me on," Yuuri responds with a bit of embarrassment. He's never had a conversation like this before, and it definitely shows from Victor's perspective. "I think...I subconsciously blurred the line between the bedroom and out of it without realizing it."

"I probably should have told you beforehand that I would say things like that," Victor ponders. "This is, after all, completely new to you..."

"Victor...," Yuuri starts, then smiles a bit at Victor’s consideration. "I'm okay now. I was doubtful, but you've laid my concerns to rest, and I'm fine, really."

"Really?" Victor repeats, raising an eyebrow. Yuuri isn't sure if he's meant to notice, but he can see that Victor is a bit tense.

"Really. Hearing you confirm what you meant was really helpful."

In the next few seconds, Victor exhales softly, running a hand through Yuuri's hair. "I know I pulled your hair, too. Was that fine? Did it hurt?"

"Just a little...but I didn't dislike it," Yuuri admits with a flush of his cheeks. "There was nothing that didn't make me feel good."

"That's good to hear."

The running water catches both of their attention as the conversation dies down, neither of them feeling the need to continue. Both of them heard what they wanted to hear.

"I'll fix up our things while you shower," Victor lets him know, pulling his hand away from the nape of Yuuri's neck. "I have my car today, so I can drive you back again."

"Thanks," Yuuri murmurs, knowing he should get in the water as Victor nods and walks out of the bathroom. As the door closes, he wonders if he's making a mistake in not asking Victor to join him.

He also isn't sure his body can handle a second round yet.

Yuuri laughs to himself about that last thought before getting into the tub. The warm water feels good against his skin and soothes the rest of the tense muscles of Yuuri's body that weren't relaxed from laying on the bed. Yuuri closes his eyes and submerges as much of his body as he can in the water, the pain in both his body and mind washing away.

After a few minutes of resting, he gets up and drains the tub, then starts running the water from the shower head so he can quickly wash himself off. He uses the shampoo the hotel provided to wash his hair and scrubs his body with a bar of soap until he feels clean before shutting off the water. Stepping out, he wraps a towel around him to dry himself off before reaching for one of the robes of the hotel and sighing softly, feeling somewhat well-rested despite the intensity of the sex he just had with Victor. Yuuri steps outside the bathroom to see Victor sitting on the bed, both sets of clothes folded on the bed.

“I found your glasses and put them on top of your clothes. They were on the floor,” Victor casually mentions. _When did they come off?_ is what Yuuri’s actually wondering, instead of asking where they were.

“Thank you…”

"Your hair looks longer when it’s wet," Victor notes with an amused huff. After Yuuri pulls his arms through both sleeves of Phichit's borrowed dress shirt, he answers.

"It's been a few months since I've had it cut...I was going to get it trimmed when I have time, now that my schedule is more flexible."

Victor hums in apprehension, eyes casually glued to Yuuri as he continues to dress up. "You don't like having long hair?"

"I'm not really used to it...," Yuuri admits while slipping his jacket on. He catches sight of Victor standing up, still in all his naked beauty and perfection, and of course, Victor notices.

"I'll stop distracting you and go rinse off," Victor remarks with a small smirk, walking past Yuuri but not before running a hand through Yuuri's hair and twirling a strand around his finger, Yuuri's eyes gazing into his. "Next time, let's go get your hair cut."

"Oh...," Yuuri exhales, instinctively shaking his head a bit, "you don't have to do something like that..."

"Something like what?" Victor casually asks, still playing with Yuuri's hair. "I want to do this for you."

"I mean...it's something minor that you don't need to worry about," Yuuri tries to explain, but one glance at Victor is enough to let him know that what he's saying can hardly be called an argument.

"If you really don't want me to, I can't force you to change your mind." Victor's hand shifts, playing with the strands at the nape of his neck, making goosebumps erupt on Yuuri's skin. He mentally thanks himself for putting on the suit jacket beforehand. "Can I do this for you?"

There's no pleading or pressure on Victor's end, but Yuuri finds himself doubting his first instincts to deny Victor's offer. One look at his eyes makes his mind a mess of pros and cons of each option. Yuuri is so accustomed to asking people why they would want to do the things they do for him, but Victor already answered that on the roof of Cindy’s, a week ago.

"Hm...why don't you let me know by tomorrow night?" Victor offers, sensing Yuuri's inner conflict. Yuuri immediately nods, feeling slightly guilty for taking up Victor's time with pointless pondering. "I want to try something new on Saturday, though."

"Something new...?" echoes Yuuri, earning a nod from Victor.

"In the bedroom."

"Oh." Yuuri ignores the burn of his ears. They were just having sex less than half an hour ago, and the memories are more than fresh in his mind. He can still remember the pressure on his back, the fullness, the release... He immediately pulls himself out of his thoughts before they can spiral down into something more. "Like what?"

"I'll tell you on Saturday," Victor huffs in amusement. "You can be patient for me, right?"

"Y-yeah," Yuuri nods a bit, gulping. He has no idea what Victor has in store, but if Victor’s impression is that Yuuri is impatient to know, the student may as well take advantage of it. "So, until then...can you give me a hint?"

"Hm..." The twinkle of amusement in Victor's eyes definitely does not go unnoticed by the younger man. "Let's just say that an open mind will open your eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For writing updates and sneak peeks, follow us on Twitter:  
> Rui (YOI only): @katsudongs  
> Alexia: @NeedMatcha


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